


All Through the Night

by rubyissherlocked



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awesome Gwen (Merlin), Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Good Morgana (Merlin), M/M, Magic Revealed, Merlin is So Done (Merlin), Minor Gwen/Morgana (Merlin), Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Merlin (Merlin), Slow Burn, Uther Pendragon's A+ Parenting (Merlin), but very mild/brief, eventual ot4 friendship and magic acceptance, mostly attempts at humor and communication, rated m for implied/mild sexual content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 34,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26650978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyissherlocked/pseuds/rubyissherlocked
Summary: The people of Camelot suddenly start acting more lovesick than usual towards Arthur. When Merlin encounters the creature behind it all, the last thing he expects is for his dreams to become inextricably linked to Arthur’s.A canon AU in which a pining Merlin is cursed to see Arthur’s dreams every night, Gaius is of no help whatsoever, and Kilgharrah thinks it’s all rather hilarious.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 205
Kudos: 633





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> tbh i just wanted to write a cute oneshot about merthur and dreams but my ideas got away from me and this will probably turn into a multi-chaptered slow burn with a healthy amount of mutual pining! probably set in an earlier season - since canon never gave us exact ages, i'm presuming everyone to be in their early 20s. and yes, this title is a cyndi lauper song. enjoy!! <3
> 
> content warning / there's some brief descriptions of people generally being creepy and invading another character's space- very mild and not written in a disturbing manner! 
> 
> disclaimer: i don't own bbc merlin or the characters (obviously), just borrowing for my own fun :)
> 
> please do not re-post to other sites!

Merlin knew that Arthur was good looking but honestly, this was just getting ridiculous. Arthur might be used to the attention, but surely even _he_ could tell that something was off. Unless, of course, his overinflated ego conveniently protected him from realizing that the hordes of simpering townsfolk lingering around them as they walked through the lower town was anything but normal. 

Now, Merlin wasn’t a fool. He had witnessed some of the antics that a few of Arthur’s more ardent admirers had pulled before - once, a particularly daring serving girl had spent almost half a day hiding under Arthur’s bed trying to catch a glimpse of his royal arse before Merlin had noticed and shooed her out.

It was commonplace for carefully arranged bouquets of wildflowers to mysteriously show up on Arthur’s bedside table (Merlin had to keep changing the locks), for delicately penned love notes to be slipped under the door, and in general, for Arthur to be the subject of longing glances from at least one person in most rooms. Usually, Merlin tried very hard to not let that person be him.

However, something about Arthur’s ever-looming fanclub had shifted recently. Aside from that one serving girl who had hid under Arthur’s bed (Merlin almost wanted to commend her audacity), typically people left their tokens of affection and declarations of love strictly anonymous and with plenty of space for plausible deniability. Merlin wasn’t quite too sure of the specifics, but there must be some unspoken penalty for actions of such a nature - people were generally frightened enough of Uther that they wouldn’t want to be caught anywhere near Arthur in any sort of compromising position, no matter how much both parties wanted it.

Arthur had pretty much told him as much once, complaining about how he was eternally doomed to get off by himself since everyone was too intimidated to ever actually do anything with him (Merlin definitely did not choke on his own spit and immediately spill whatever it had been that he was serving when this was said).

But as they traipsed through town on the way back from Arthur’s hunt, people were acting… bolder. An elderly woman dramatically swooned right in the path of their horses and clung on to Arthur’s arm for what felt like ages when Arthur, chivalrous as always, helped her back up. As he was doing so, a young man around Merlin’s own age ogled Arthur’s backside, nervously reaching forward as if to actually touch him and only snatching his hand back at the last second. 

_Seriously?_ Merlin understood the urge, of course he of all people understood _that_ , but at least he was subtle about his staring. Then, a middle aged shopkeeper all but dragged Arthur into his shop, twirling his mustache flirtatiously and insisting that his Highness just _had_ to try the new sweets they had just imported from somewhere foreign and exciting. He only relented when a group of knights circled Arthur and glowered menacingly at him.

Arthur, of course, shook the shopkeeper’s hand politely and assured him that he would come back to try them another time. Prat. 

Even more worryingly, when Arthur clapped Sir Leon on the shoulder in thanks for the rescue and made to get past the group of knights and back to his horse, Sir Leon didn’t move from his spot. None of the knights did. Instead they all gazed at Arthur with the same peculiar look in their eyes. Only when Sir Leon blinked rapidly as if coming out of a day-dream and finally stepped aside did the rest of the knights do the same, freeing Arthur from where they had effectively cornered him against the shop entrance. 

As they somehow made it out of town without any more incidents, bade the knights goodbye (most of whom seemed reluctant to part ways), and headed into the castle, Arthur didn’t seem to notice anything was amiss. In fact, he was whistling, poking fun at Merlin, and occasionally jostling his arm as they walked like he didn’t have a care in the world. Merlin, on the other hand, had some concerns.

He mentally cursed whatever was going on with everyone for preventing him from enjoying Arthur’s good mood as he hurried Arthur towards his chambers, keeping a careful eye out for any lurking admirers. When a visiting nobleman with a nasty glint in his eyes walked past them with a nod and then immediately doubled back to all but stalk them through the halls, Merlin’s eyes flashed gold and the unsuspecting nobleman was unceremoniously shoved into a suit of armour by an invisible force. 

“What was that?” Arthur paused, making to turn around and look for the source of the noise.

“Ah, just a servant dropping some plates. Nothing you need to worry about sire!” Merlin dragged him around the corner before Arthur could catch a glimpse of the dazed nobleman staggering to his feet. 

Arthur looked somewhat confused at the fact that he was currently being manhandled by Merlin, of all people, and jerked his arm out of Merlin’s grip. “I am perfectly capable of walking without assistance, _Merlin_.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Merlin was so distracted looking around to see if they were still being followed by anyone that he almost forgot to enjoy the affronted look on Arthur’s face as he grappled for a response.

Almost, but not quite.

* * *

Okay, maybe it had been risky of him to subtly use magic to keep any unwanted intruders out of Arthur’s chambers when Merlin had left, but he had no choice, honestly! There was a gaggle (a gaggle!) of people lingering in the hall outside his chambers, all looking at Arthur with poorly disguised lust in their eyes and sighing with disappointment when they heard the door lock shut behind him. At this point, he didn't put it past any of them to try to jimmy the lock. Merlin scowled at them (he was resolutely ignored by all) and headed back home, hoping to find Gaius and some sort of explanation for this behaviour.

When Merlin entered the room, he found Gwen seated on a bench and anxiously explaining something to Gaius, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, while he flipped through a book rapidly.

“Gwen?” Merlin entered the room cautiously, not wanting to startle her. “What’s going on?”

They both turned to face him, Gwen’s brow furrowed and her eyes darting around the room as she opened and closed her mouth several times, clearly unsure of where to start. Eventually, she spoke:

“They’ve gone mad! All the servants, they’re mad!” Her voice was high and shook slightly.

“What happened?” He knew it. He knew something was going on. _Just one week_ , he mentally pleaded with the universe. _One week without something involving Arthur going horribly wrong_. The universe didn’t respond. _Bastard._

“Well- well, I was in the kitchen and all the cooks, the serving boys and girls, the cleaners, everyone - they were all talking. About- um, about a dream.” She paused and blushed furiously, wringing her hands together with her eyes downcast. 

“Go on, dear.” Gaius patted her shoulder comfortingly, while signaling to Merlin with his eyes that yep, something was up. And whatever it was, it was bad. 

“They all- they all had dreams about Arthur. About um. Being with him. In a- a-”

“In a sexual manner,” Gaius said promptly, causing Merlin’s eyes to widen. 

“It was horrible! They were all being so - so _descriptive_ , it was like nothing else mattered except-” She faltered and then continued after steeling herself. “Except sleeping with Arthur! They must have been enchanted, they must have, I mean - I’m not daft, the servants talk and joke about Arthur all the time because he’s, well, you know-”

 _I know Gwen_ , Merlin thought. _I’ve seen him_.

“But it’s never anything serious! Only yesterday, Ada—she’s a lovely girl, really—was gushing about her engagement and today she’s scheming to sneak Arthur a _love potion_! Someone must have- have done something to them!” Gwen exclaimed in a rather scandalized voice.

“It’s not just the servants either,” Merlin jumped in. “I noticed earlier that the townspeople and knights have been acting funny around Arthur too.” 

Gwen gnawed on her lip, looking nervous about saying whatever it was she was about to say next.

“I- I had one too. A dream.”

That changed things. If Gwen hadn’t looked so distressed, Merlin would have teased her mercilessly about the fact that she’d had a sex dream about Arthur (as if he hadn’t been in her shoes dozens of times before). 

“And I- I almost felt like I wanted to join them. It was like being in a trance…” She trailed off with a glazed look in her eyes, only continuing on when Merlin poked her arm, none too gently. “But I didn't, of course! I came to my senses and figured something wasn’t right so I came here to find Gaius!”

She looked so endearingly worried about judgment that Merlin couldn’t help but try to lighten the mood. 

“Sex dream with Arthur, eh? Must have been interesting.” He shot her a cheeky smile, hoping to unravel some of the tension of her face.

She smiled hesitantly back and lightly swatted his shoulder, opening her mouth to speak. But before she did-

“It was.” Gaius spoke in a matter of fact tone, ignoring the horrified looks on Merlin and Gwen’s faces and busying himself with a stack of papers.

“Gaius… not you too?” Merlin spoke, barely suppressing what would surely be life-ruining mental images. 

“Indeed.” Gaius nodded solemnly, while passing a sick looking Gwen a bucket. “I had similar feelings earlier today as well. It seems everyone is being affected by whatever this is - everyone but you, Merlin.” 

_A little too late there_ , Merlin thought, not at all bitterly. Being Arthur’s manservant seemed to have come with the added benefit of being tormented with feverish dreams of Arthur almost nightly. But now wasn’t the time to focus on that.

Merlin shook visions of Arthur ( _Arthur handling his sword skillfully at practices, Arthur sweating after a particularly exhausting session with the knights, Arthur smiling at him while he poured his bath water_ ) from his head and attempted to focus on his task at hand: figuring out why all of a sudden, everybody and their mother couldn’t keep their deep-seated cravings for Arthur bloody Pendragon to themselves like he did.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Excellent_ , Merlin thought. _Nothing better than a rogue, super-powerful, potentially mind reading fairy to start your week right._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a huge thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter, it makes my day hearing your thoughts!! i hope people enjoy this chapter too <3 if anyone is interested, please see the notes at the end for some of my ramblings on the context, timing, direction, etc of this fic!

_“Merlin.” Arthur looked at him with glint in his eyes that made Merlin feel much too exposed. “This is unacceptable.”_

_“What is?” Merlin looked around Arthur’s chambers, not daring to make eye contact. Nothing seemed amiss._

_“You are.” Arthur strode towards him, his fists clenched at his sides. “You, with your ridiculous neckerchief, and your cheekbones, and the way you can never just give a straight answer.”_

_Merlin stared about a foot over Arthur’s head with what he hoped was an unfazed look on his face. “I can’t help what my cheekbones look like.”_

_Arthur now stood in front of him, much closer than polite society would deem appropriate._

_"Always mouthing off too. There is a ... special punishment reserved for such impudence.”_

_“Really? What’s that then, your Highness?” Merlin finally looked at him dead-on, a challenge in his eyes. If Arthur could see past his undaunted facade, he didn’t let on. Instead, he smirked and leaned in, closer and closer, until-_

“Merlin!”

Merlin jumped awake, squinting against the sunlight that was suddenly streaming into his room. Gaius turned away from the curtains he had just opened and brandished one of his many books on magical creatures in Merlin’s face. 

“I’ve found the answer. Now, quickly, get dressed! You've got quite a day ahead of you.” And with that, Gaius strode out of the room, leaving Merlin to burrow back into his blankets and groan, trying his best to rid the mental image of Arthur leaning in ( _close, but not close enough_ ) from his brain.

* * *

“You’re joking.”

“I’m afraid not, Merlin.” Gaius’s gaze didn’t leave the book he was showing Merlin, his eyes flitting across the lines of dense text.

“Cupid? Like, actual Cupid? You can’t be serious.” 

The morning wasn’t off to a good start. Merlin absolutely _despised_ anything to do with love enchantments. He mentally brandished a fist at the universe for doing this to him.

Gaius sighed. “If you would read the page, Merlin, you would know that no, it’s not _actual Cupid_. However, these creatures, Cherubs, have definitely contributed to the fanciful notion that Cupid even exists.” 

“Go on, then.” Merlin sighed in resignation. “What’s a Cherub and why is this one making people go mental over Arthur? More than usual, I mean.” 

Unfortunately, bringing up Arthur turned out to be quite a mistake. Gaius’s eyes glazed over at the simple mention of his name and a dreamy expression that Merlin hoped to never see again spread across his face. Only after several minutes of Merlin shouting at him and a glass of cold water to the face did Gaius snap out of his reverie and tell Merlin everything he needed to know about the Cherubim.

Merlin retained about three key points from this conversation: Firstly, from what Gaius's ever-helpful book told them, Cherubs were an extremely rare, extremely powerful class of psychic fairy that could use telepathic manipulation to interfere with peoples’ thoughts and dreams. Secondly, they had a mischievous, but benevolent temperament with little interest in human activity outside of romance. It was believed that they typically only used their powers to fluster and provoke pairs of their choosing, but rarely ever controlled their actions or forced human behaviour (even though it was well within their abilities to do so). For this reason, Gaius believed the Cherub they were currently dealing with, who had set their sights on a decidedly higher and much more devious goal than simple matchmaking, had gone somewhat rogue for unknown reasons. 

_Excellent_ , Merlin thought. _Nothing better than a rogue, super-powerful, potentially mind reading fairy to start your week right_. 

Thirdly, they resided on the outskirts of villages and towns, usually near the borders of forests, where they could stay hidden but still close to what was widely presumed to be their main source of entertainment: human love affairs. 

“Right then!” Merlin stood up, clapping his hands together. “I’ll be off to the forest to deal with this. Don’t wait up!” 

Gaius sputtered in protest. “Merlin, may I ask what exactly it is you are _planning to do_? Cherubs may choose to use their abilities in trivial ways, but they are still extremely powerful creatures—even I could not tell you the range of their abilities—and we have yet to come up with a way to defeat it!”

“I thought I might talk to it,” Merlin said nonchalantly. “I’m getting quite tired of blasting magic bolts at everyone.”

“ _Merlin!_ ” 

“What? You said they were usually benevolent creatures, did you not?” 

“I also said it had likely gone _rogue_.” 

Merlin shrugged half-heartedly, not making eye contact. “Maybe it’s just bored.” 

“That’s quite improbable.” Gaius raised an eyebrow at him. “Merlin, what’s this really about?”

Merlin sighed, dropping his shoulders in defeat and turning to face Gaius properly. 

“Sometimes I think I’m not quite cut out for all this destiny business, Gaius. I don’t…” He huffed in frustration, plopping down on the bench as he spoke. “I don’t want to use my magic to hurt creatures who are not so different than I am! How could I do so and then go on hoping that Arthur will someday let magic return to Camelot with a clear conscience? ” 

Gaius nodded understandingly, as he tended to do. “It must be quite a burden to carry, especially for someone with as gentle a disposition as you. But Merlin, everything you’ve done has been to protect the people of Camelot. To protect-”

“Yes, yes, to protect Arthur, I understand. And I’ll continue to do so, until the day I die! But we don’t know what this Cherub wants. Perhaps it is rogue and simply wreaking havoc like you said, in which case I’ll do what I must. Or perhaps it is simply bored, or angry at Uther—rightfully so, I’d say—or, or something else we haven’t thought of, in which case I can try to convince it to _stop_!” 

Gaius looked skeptical and Merlin jutted his chin out defiantly. “I will not kill it blindly unless it gives me reason to do so. I am a creature of magic as well - maybe it will listen to me.” 

“Very well, Merlin.” Gaius still looked concerned, but seemed to concede Merlin’s point. “But please, take care. Even if Cherubs tend to be good-natured, they’re also very petty and proud creatures. I fear what one might do if they face insult or injury.” 

“You know me, Gaius.” Merlin smiled ruefully as he rose from his seat and headed towards the door. “I’ll be as tactful as ever.” 

As he high-tailed it out of the room and rushed down the corridor, leaving the door ajar behind him, Merlin heard Gaius call out reproachfully:

“That’s rather what I’m afraid of, Merlin!” 

* * *

Merlin had made it down approximately one hall before he turned a corner and ran smack into a slightly troubled looking Arthur, the man who seemed to exist solely to complicate Merlin’s plans and torment his nights. 

“Do you _ever_ watch where you’re going Merlin?” Arthur’s voice was exasperated, but the corner of his mouth ( _no, Merlin wasn’t staring_ ) quirked into a reluctant half-smile as he steadied the both of them.

“I could ask you the same thing, sire.” 

If Arthur had been in a bad mood that day, he probably would have scowled and marched off to carry out whatever princely duties he had for the day without a second glance at Merlin. Usually, Merlin hated when he did that. But as it so happens, Merlin had a rather pressing task to carry out right now and really wouldn’t have minded if Arthur had just stalked off and left him to get on with things. But since Arthur was a prat of monumental proportions who could never just _make Merlin’s life easy_ , he did no such thing. Instead, he crossed his arms and took a step back, eyes raking over Merlin with a wary expression on his face.

Moments passed.

As much as Merlin would have loved to waste the day away locking eyes with Arthur, he _really_ didn’t have time for this. 

“What?” He didn’t mean to sound so irritated, but Arthur seriously had the worst timing.

Arthur raised an eyebrow quizzically at his outburst, still standing a safe distance away. “You’re not gonna start fawning all over me, are you Merlin?”

“Why, was I supposed to?” _Shit_ , Merlin thought, schooling his features into a sardonic grin. _Of course Arthur chooses now to stop being ridiculously oblivious._

Arthur let a flash of relief flutter across his face before raising his chin haughtily. “Well, it wouldn’t hurt to show some respect, y’know. I am your prince, after all.” 

Merlin snorted. “I’ll be sure to bring you some flowers tomorrow, _your Highness_. Now if you’ll excuse me-” 

“Everyone’s acting weird.” Arthur ignored Merlin’s gibe, suddenly looking less like a regal prince and more like a petulant child. “People keep stopping me for the silliest reasons. It took me nearly an hour just to shake them off and make my way down here!”

Merlin breathed an internal sigh of relief. He hadn’t expected for Arthur to be up and about yet and was glad to hear that people had stuck to merely pestering Arthur and nothing more nefarious so far. 

Searching for a somewhat believable explanation, Merlin finally landed on saying, “The people are probably just impressed with your latest hunting exploits, sire.”

“Perhaps.” Arthur didn’t look too convinced. “It’s quite unnerving.” 

“Maybe you just need to spend some time away from the castle.” Merlin tried not to sound too desperate to get rid of Arthur. “Some time to yourself might ease your mind.” 

Arthur perked up. “Excellent idea Merlin! Go gather my hunting gear, will you?” 

_Goddammit._

“You just went hunting yesterday!” Merlin protested weakly, knowing from the stubborn set of Arthur’s jaw that his mind was already made up. 

“Nothing like a solo-hunt to help clear the mind!” Arthur clapped him on the shoulder and turned around, calling out behind him as he strode towards the exit. “Well, not exactly solo - you’ll be joining me, of course.” 

Merlin couldn’t see his face, but he just knew that Arthur was grinning from ear to ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here are some lengthy ramblings, as promised:  
> \- in terms of aligning this fic with canon timing, i've mentally placed this in s2 sometime before episode 2x08 (the sins of the father), since that episode was such a negative turning point in arthur's attitude towards magic :(  
> \- so i guess that means merlin is like 19/20ish and arthur is 21/22? ik this isn't super important, but i wanted the more idealistic energy of the earlier seasons and to focus on the Personal Issues that the boys need to work through together without dealing with a bunch of external threats  
> \- the other thing is that gwen will be featured only in a strictly platonic sense and if i end up including some morgana Content she will be nice s1/2 morgana (dont be surprised if i sneak some morgwen in bc i love Them)  
> \- also the whole idea of the cherub as a creature was somewhat inspired by episode 5x14 of supernatural but i've altered it quite a bit, it's actually been really fun making up my own lore and rules for it! 
> 
> congrats if you made it this far and thanks once again to everyone for reading/leaving kudos/commenting!!  
> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between keeping his eye out for lurking Cherubs, internally stressing about how he would talk to the creature if it showed itself (especially since Arthur was _right there_ ), and trying to keep up with his usual levels of witty banter (he had _standards_ ), Merlin was not having what one might call a good time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you again to everyone who's been keeping up with and supporting this fic!! this chapter is a bit longer than usual, but for good reason - yay for plot advancement! hope you enjoy :)

Trudging through the forest on horseback, Merlin could’ve sworn that Arthur was elongating this hunting trip just to torture him. Between keeping his eye out for lurking Cherubs, internally stressing about how he would talk to the creature if it showed itself (especially since Arthur was _right there),_ and trying to keep up with his usual levels of witty banter (he had _standards_ ), Merlin was not having what one might call a good time. 

Arthur held up his hand in one of those ridiculous gestures that he always expected Merlin to telepathically know the meaning of, pulling his horse to an abrupt halt.

“What?” Merlin hissed, guiding his horse to a stop alongside Arthur’s and mentally preparing for the worst. 

Arthur looked positively gleeful. “I hear pheasants up ahead.”

Oh. Less threatening, but still something Merlin wanted nothing to do with - he had never really understood the appeal of hunting. 

“I don’t hear anything.” Merlin furrowed his brow, concentrating on trying to hear whatever it was that Arthur was hearing.

“Would you stop _straining_ yourself Merlin, you look ridiculous.”

“Still don’t hear anything.” Merlin shrugged in defeat, scowling when Arthur gestured for him to keep it down. 

“And that, Merlin, is the difference between a _highly skilled_ hunter like myself and you.” Arthur rolled his eyes and vaulted off his horse, grabbing his crossbow in one smooth movement as he did ( _Rather melodramatic_ , Merlin thought).

“Another difference is that I’m not a _complete clotpole!_ ” He whispered back disgruntledly.

“Oh, look at that, you’ve learned to whisper! We’ll make a hunter out of you yet.” And with a quick sarcastic smile that definitely did not set Merlin’s heart aflutter, Arthur was heading out into the trees and out of Merlin’s sight. 

A few minutes of silence passed while Merlin tried to convince Arthur’s horse to stay tethered to a tree, and then-

“Hello there,” a voice drawled.

Merlin’s head whipped around to the source of the voice and was greeted with an elfish looking creature, slightly bigger than Merlin’s head, reclining in the branch of a tree as if it didn’t have a care in the world. It had a pair of delicate wings folded against its back, but other than that and the pointed ears, looked just like a rather snooty old man, just as the illustration of a Cherub in Gaius’s book had shown. What the illustrator had failed to include, however, was the meticulously groomed nails. Also incorrect was the color of the creature’s wings - the drawing in Gaius’s book had depicted them as a shimmering rose-gold, but in reality, they looked to be a dull, lifeless grey.

Merlin’s mouth jaw hung open (whether at his luck at running into the creature or his misfortune of doing so when Arthur was just a few minutes up ahead, he did not know) for an impolite amount of time before he realized he was supposed to be trying to reason with the Cherub. Staring was probably just as rude for magical creatures as it was humans. 

“Er, hello there, Cherub-“ He remembered what Gaius had told him about Cherubs' prideful nature and quickly added, “Um, Cherub, Sir. Sir Cherub.” 

The Cherub raised an eyebrow at him, still perched lazily on the tree branch. “Sir? My, my, I never imagined you would be so _formal_ , Emrys.” 

Merlin must have looked baffled - not so much because the Cherub had referred to him as Emrys (he was rather used to this by now), but due to the almost _bored_ manner with which he had spoken. In the back of his head, he supposed he had expected a much more lively creature. 

“For heaven’s sake, are you just going to stand there gormlessly ‘til your Prince returns?” The Cherub said, a hint of annoyance leaking into his otherwise flat voice. 

“Oh! Um, well, you see -“ Merlin paused, not quite sure what to call the creature since it seemed “Sir Cherub” didn’t quite appeal to it. 

The Cherub sighed, casting his eyes up to the heavens in exasperation. “God help us all. I am known as Galel, and yes, I am indeed a Cherub as you have so astutely observed. Now, why do you seek me out, warlock?” 

Merlin frowned. “I thought you could read minds, shouldn’t you know?”

Galel sighed again, so theatrically you would’ve thought it was the most ridiculous question the creature had ever heard.

“While I am truly flattered, you overestimate me. The Cherubim may be able to see and alter and do all kinds of funny little things to human dreams, but we are not _mind readers_.” Galel shuddered. “Thank goodness for that.” 

With great effort, Merlin decided to keep the part of his brain that was wondering why this Cherub was a saucy little shit from speaking and instead focus on his task at hand. 

“Okay, uh, Galel. How did you know I was looking for you then?” 

Galel sniffed haughtily in a manner disturbingly reminiscent of Arthur. “We are not mind readers per se, but we do have a basic attunement to strong human emotions and desire. I could feel you searching.” 

“Right, okay.” Merlin decided it would be best if he decided not to question things too much. “That makes total sense, not confusing at all. Anyways Galel, not to be presumptuous, but there’s been some… strange behaviour in Camelot as of late. I was wondering - just wondering, not an accusation at all! Just wondering if you might have had, um, anything to do with it.” 

_Smooth_ , Merlin’s subconscious helpfully supplied while the Cherub continued to regard him with a bored look on his face. _Shut up_ , Merlin told it. 

“What kind of strange behaviour?” Galel drawled, examining his fingernails. 

“The people have become, well… obsessed with Prince Arthur. More than usual, I mean.” 

“Go on.” Galel sat up with interest, previous snide demeanour suddenly gone and a flicker of concern in his eyes. 

“Well, there’s been some, uh, stalking, flirtatious behaviour, schemes to sneak him a love potion… just general creepiness, y’know.” 

There was a pause. 

“Oh, and sex dreams,” Merlin added, almost as an afterthought. 

“Oh dear.” Galel’s wings fluttered nervously. “I was hoping nothing like this would happen.” 

Merlin held back a grimace - this didn’t bode well, but at least Galel seemed willing to talk things out. Merlin really did hate shooting magic bolts at everyone. 

“So you do know something about how this happened then?” 

“Ah, well you see… before I get into it, let me explain a few things.” Galel suddenly looked very much like Gaius when he was explaining one of his latest experiments to Merlin. 

Merlin adopted the stance of a perfect listener, ushering the Cherub to go on.

“The magic of the Cherubim is quite different from that of your own, Emrys. Our abilities are deeply intertwined with our own psyches and emotions… you see, we could manipulate and twist and force humans into some rather nasty situations if we so chose! But this brings us no joy, and in fact, is ultimately harmful to our kind. If we lived our life doing such horrible things, our abilities would eventually fade and wither away - our life source along with it. So, we simply dilly-dally our days away, nudging people together whenever we happen to stumble across a strong mutual desire that has yet to be acted upon for whatever reason. You might consider us to be _playing Cupid_ \- who by the way, seems to always get the credit for our work!” Galel paused for a moment, looking off into the distance reproachfully.

Merlin was tempted to ask more about the implied existence of Cupid, but Arthur was bound to return at any moment, so he mentally filed that tidbit of information away for later. 

“This is where it gets quite, ah, sticky.” Galel continued on, looking mildly apologetic. “Our form of magic demands action. If we stop _matchmaking_ , as you humans like to call it, for a prolonged period of time, it can get rather… temperamental.” 

“Temperamental?” Merlin had a sinking feeling in his gut.

“Moody. Unpredictable. Erratic.” Galel pulled a disgruntled face. “Sometimes we can get lucky and scrape by with no consequences, but most of the time if we slack off… our abilities tend to take on a life of their own, regardless of our own intentions. Even the most powerful Cherub cannot always contain the volatile magic that springs forth, impacting whoever happens to be nearest, sometimes even whole villages at once. Unfortunately, it remains as such until we get back to work, channelling our magic towards _matchmaking_.” The Cherub wrinkled his nose as if just saying the word left a bad taste in his mouth.

Merlin was starting to connect the dots. “So you… you have stopped matchmaking?”

“Indeed.”

“And as a consequence, your magic just... made all of this happen, but you didn’t do any of it on purpose?”

“Most definitely not. What could I possibly stand to gain from setting hordes of people on an unsuspecting prince?” 

“I see.” Suddenly, a grim thought struck him as he processed everything Galel had told him about the Cherubim. “Wait, have you been the one sending me those- those dreams about, uh, Arthur?” 

“Have I not just said that I’ve not been doing anything of that nature?” Galel looked a bit sulky. “Perhaps my behaviour here hasn’t been the best demonstration of this, but the Cherubim do have a modicum of respect for you, Emrys - we would not send you false visions. All of your dreams have been your own.” 

“Right. Uh, thank you, I guess.” Merlin kicked the grass at his feet, slightly put off that he couldn’t blame his steady stream of Arthur-centric dreams on the creature. 

The Cherub stretched his arms up suddenly, yawning lazily and looking bored once again. “Well, if I’ve answered all your questions then, I do have other places to be-”

“Wait! Isn’t there some way for you to undo this?” Merlin called out in panic.

Galel looked miffed. “As I’ve already said, Emrys, the only way for me to regain control of this matter is if I go back to playing _Cupid_ , and I have no intentions of doing such a thing!”

And to Merlin’s horror, the Cherub left his seat and began to fly off through the trees.

“Just - just hold on a minute!” Merlin hurriedly got off his horse, tethering it next to Arthur’s before following Galel through the forest. “Why can’t you go back to matchmaking? It doesn’t sound like too bad a life!”

Galel heaved yet another dramatic sigh and paused, fluttering just above the ground a few metres ahead of Merlin. 

“You really have no idea how utterly _boring_ couples are these days, do you Emrys?” The Cherub looked genuinely distressed at this. “There’s barely anything left for us to do anymore, that’s why most of the Cherubim have faded out of existence! All it takes is one glance across the room and people are ready to elope- now, that’s all well and good for them, but where’s the passion? Where’s the jealousy, the pining, the desire? Have you humans forgotten what it is to _yearn_?” 

Merlin sputtered in disbelief. “So you’re going to continue to do nothing and leave the _Prince of Camelot_ in this mess just because other humans aren’t _interesting enough_ for you to get involved?” 

“I am not impressed by your petty human titles, Emrys.” Galel shrugged. “Perhaps he’ll enjoy the attention. It’s not causing too much distress, is it?”

“Yes!” Merlin hissed, not quite believing what he was hearing. “It is! Everyone’s trying to _seduce him_ now!”

Galel perked up again, suddenly looking engaged in the conversation once again. “Oho, and does that bother you?” 

“Well - well, yes, of course, but only because-”

“Oh, now this, _t_ _h_ _is_ is interesting.” Galel looked positively delighted. “Let us circle back to those dreams about Arthur you’ve been having, Emrys, tell me more about that!”

“What? No, they’re just - just normal dreams!” Merlin protested, wondering how the conversation had led here.

“Considering the wonderful little mess of emotions I’m sensing in you right now, you’ll forgive me if I do not believe you, Emrys. Of course, I can just take a glimpse at your dreams whenever I like, if you’d rather that instead.”

 _Convincing a Cherub to not peek in on my sex dreams about Arthur_ , Merlin thought. _How has my life come to this?_

“I thought you respected me too much to interfere with my dreams,” Merlin said faintly.

Galel waved a hand dismissively. “I’ve always been rather fickle. One of my few weaknesses, I suppose.”

Merlin was still grappling for a response when Galel, who had been fluttering about excitedly and generally looking much too pleased with this turn of events, suddenly cocked one pointed ear, listening to something that Merlin couldn’t quite hear. 

From then on, everything happened very quickly. Galel froze in mid-flight, his previously ordinary teeth suddenly elongating into pointed fangs, which were now bared in a hostile snarl at something behind Merlin. The Cherub dropped into a crouch, his perfectly kept manicure extending into wicked looking talons and eyes burning a fiery red as they rapidly scanned the forest for some invisible threat. And not a split second later, an arrow whistled through the air from somewhere in the trees, just barely missing Galel, who had darted to the side. Galel hissed angrily and gave Merlin an irate look before taking cover high up in the dense foliage. Then, with a flash of gold that shimmered through the leaves, the Cherub vanished.

Arthur crashed through the trees a few moments later, a ridiculously inappropriate overjoyed look on his face. “Did I get it?”

Merlin stood very still, contemplating just how badly a vexed Cherub boded for their current situation, before slowly meeting Arthur’s gaze. It was only due to the plethora of practice that Merlin had dealing with situations like these that he was able to keep his voice somewhat measured.

“Arthur,” He started conversationally. “You massive, massive, clotpole. You complete ass. You’ve just pissed off one of the most powerful kinds of fairy in the world.”

The look of shock on Arthur’s face as he whirled around trying to catch a glimpse of anything that looked remotely like a fairy was almost comical. Merlin might have even laughed, if he wasn’t too busy trying not to pull his hair out with frustration.

“ _Fairy?_ What on earth are you on about Merlin, I thought it was a pheasant!”

Merlin gaped at him incredulously. _“_ What kind of hunter are you if you thought _that_ was a pheasant?”

“Visibility is bad in the trees!” Arthur spun around, suddenly looking at Merlin accusingly. “Hang on, why were you just hanging about here with a _fairy_?”

Merlin was starting to regret not going along with Arthur’s notion that Galel had been a pheasant. 

“It was - it was a nice fairy?” Merlin said weakly.

“Consorting with magical creatures, Merlin? You’re lucky I’m not my father.” Arthur abandoned his look of indignation for one of reluctant concern. “You should know better, honestly. However _nice_ it appeared, what if it had cast some sort of enchantment on you?”

“Yes, well, it was being perfectly friendly before you went and shot an arrow at it, now it’s probably angry with us both! Oh, well _done_ sire, _excellent_ job- ” 

“I told you, I thought it was a pheasant!” Arthur glowered at the ground, kicking the twigs at his feet before lapsing into a stubborn silence. 

_Perfect,_ Merlin thought. _Just perfect. The Cherub is royally pissed off, Arthur knows I was speaking to it, and the people of Camelot are no less bewitched than before._

He sighed, wondering once again how exactly this had ended up being his life. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Merlin?”
> 
> “Yes?”
> 
> “Why were you talking to the fairy?”
> 
> _Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s quickly becoming clear to me that i cannot write canon era fic without attempting to address all the things in canon that i had issues with, so this fic is going to be slightly more plotty, feature gwen & morgana heavily, and reference episodes more than i initially planned! for now, all you really need to know is that it's set some time after the events of episode 2x03 (when morgana goes to the druids and realizes she has magic + talks to merlin about it). thanks for reading!! <3

Merlin guessed he wasn’t exactly doing the best job of hiding his frustration as they made their way back towards town. Arthur was riding slightly ahead of him, but kept looking back from time to time and sighing exaggeratedly when he was met with stony silence each time. 

_Good_ _,_ Merlin thought when it happened for the umpteenth time. _Let him stew in silence for a bit._

Of course, Merlin knew that wasn’t quite fair. It wasn’t Arthur’s fault that his reputation as an excellent hunter was clearly horribly wrong and in reality, he couldn’t tell a pheasant from a fairy. The whole thing had been just really terrible, terrible timing. If you asked Arthur though, he would probably blame it on “bad visibility” again. 

_Doesn’t really matter anyways_ _,_ a snide voice in the back on his head interjected, bringing up the one fact that Merlin was resolutely trying not to think about. _Arthur probably would have just shot at it all the same even if he knew it was a creature of magic._

And there it was, the crux of the matter and the reason why Merlin couldn’t bring himself to buck up and think about what he was going to do next. Over the years, under the watchful eye of his mother and now Gaius, Merlin had gotten quite used to hiding his magic. Unfortunately, the sudden rush of emotion that came whenever he witnessed how quickly magic was demonized and tossed aside, discarded like an old rag, had never really faded. When Merlin listened to Uther as he preached his angry diatribes of the evils of magic, what he felt most prominently was a sort of muted rage and an inkling of pity. When he heard it from the common people, worried whispers like _there is rumor of a magical creature outside the village_ and _don’t fear, the knights will surely kill the beast,_ he mostly felt an urge to grab the poor unsuspecting villager by the shoulders and shake some sense into them. 

When it came from Arthur, however, it was like a blow to the chest, leaving Merlin struggling to breathe clearly for hours on end. Whether it was a throwaway joke that painted all magic users in a less than flattering light or Arthur’s dutiful nods as he listened to his father’s tirades, it always stung, and today was no exception. It didn’t matter that Arthur had genuinely thought Galel was a pheasant. The suspicion on Arthur’s face when he learned it was a fairy that he had just shot at and the fact that there was a good chance Arthur wouldn’t have done anything differently even if he had realized so earlier, was enough to set Merlin spiraling into sadness.

Merlin knew that Arthur was a better man than Uther. Of course, his first few days in Camelot, he’d had his doubts. But since then, Arthur had shown him time and time again that not only was he less of a prat than he pretended to be, but he also didn’t share his father's fanatical hatred of magic. He was more like the villagers - afraid of the unknown, with all of the additional complications that came from being Uther’s son and the future King of Camelot. 

But Arthur could stand up to Uther, could show empathy and understanding, he _could._ Merlin had seen it, seen it with the unicorn, the young druid boy, and the one instance Merlin still couldn’t quite wrap his head around: when Arthur had risked his life retrieving the Mortaeus flower to save him. Merlin knew Arthur had that resolute moral compass within him all on his own, but it seemed Morgana was particularly good at pushing him into acting on it. Those rare moments when Arthur had shown that he was willing to question his father’s ideals, even outwardly defy him, had felt like small victories to Merlin at the time. They whispered promises of a distant future where Arthur was king and those who used magic were persecuted no more. 

Seeing as it was apparently his destiny to bring those visions of a better future into reality, Merlin clung on to those moments and hoped that they meant he was doing _something_ right. But as much as those memories meant to him, they weren’t able to stop him from feeling this kind of unquantifiable sadness when Arthur did or said something that suggested he might not be growing more tolerant of magic like Merlin hoped. It suddenly struck him that after her time with the Druids and growing aware of her powers, Morgana probably felt just as rundown and weary as Merlin did whenever Arthur did such things (if not more), and guilt settled in his stomach like a rock.

“For God's sake Merlin, would you stop moping back there? I’ve told you a hundred times, I thought it was a pheasant!” Arthur’s exasperated voice broke Merlin out of his internal pity party.

And of course, because this was _them_ and bickering seemed to come quite naturally to Merlin when he was around Arthur (and vice versa), Merlin felt his sadness suddenly turn to a flood of irritation. The absolute _audacity_ of Arthur to be annoyed with him for moping when he himself was the current source of all of Merlin’s current emotional frustration!

“Oh, like you wouldn’t have shot it just as readily if you knew it was a fairy.” Merlin probably could have tried a bit harder to keep the bitterness out of his voice. 

Arthur looked taken aback, but quickly covered it with a miffed expression. “Don’t you think I might’ve learned my lesson after the damn unicorn incident?”

“Learning? I didn’t know you were capable of such a thing, my lord.”

“I’m electing to ignore that.” After a moment, Arthur added, “I did feel bad, y’know. About the unicorn, after.” 

“I know you did.” 

They rode in silence for a few minutes.

“Merlin?”

“Yes?”

“Why were you talking to the fairy?”

_Shit._

“Honestly, sire,” Merlin said, staring hard at Arthur’s back in front of him for any signs of discomfort about what he was going to say next. “It was a pretty friendly creature. Seemed to be minding its business, not doing anyone any harm.”

 _Not on purpose, anyways_ _,_ Merlin amended his statement internally. _That might change now, though, because of the whole shooting at it thing._

Arthur’s shoulders stiffened. “It could have done something to you, Merlin.” 

Merlin decided to take a chance and say the full truth for once, no omissions and no alterations. “I trusted it wouldn’t harm me.”

Arthur didn’t respond.

“They’re just beings, Arthur,” Merlin added softly. “Not so different from you and I.” 

Arthur’s shoulders relaxed marginally. “How can you be so sure?” 

“Some people use their abilities for good and others use them for evil. I believe the same applies to those who are of magic - it just comes down to trust.” Merlin shrugged, then before he lost his nerve, hastily added in a single rush of breath, “And I know you’re going to call me a girl’s petticoat, or foolish, or naive for thinking so, but is it really so wrong to not want to needlessly kill creatures who are just minding their business? Or to blindly accuse and execute people who are even _suspected_ of practicing magic? Is magic that big a threat to Uther? To _you?_ How can you not see the injustice in that?” 

Several beats of silence passed before Arthur looked back at him with a curious frown on his face. “I wasn’t going to call you a girl’s petticoat,” he finally said. 

“Right. Okay.” Merlin didn’t know what else to say. “Are you going to have me thrown in the stocks for insolence?”

“No.”

Merlin didn't find Arthur's lacklustre responses any less frustrating. Just as he was about to press him further, Arthur spoke. 

“Do you really think so little of me?” Arthur’s voice was small in a way that made his heart ache, and Merlin knew he wasn’t talking about the stocks. 

_Of course not_ _,_ he wanted to say. _I think the world of you. I believe in the future you’re going to create and the man you’re becoming, even when you’re being a complete prat. Even when I don’t want to and wish I could deny it, I think of you all through the day and all through the night. I think more of you than you could possibly ever know._

Instead, Merlin chose his words carefully. “I think that you sometimes let your duty to your father get in the way of what your heart knows to be right.” 

Arthur stopped his horse in its tracks. Merlin couldn’t exactly blame him for getting offended. He had been pushing the limits of their tenuous, unspoken, almost-but-not-quite friendship, flirting with the boundaries of what exactly was acceptable to say to a prince. 

“Look, Arthur, all I meant is-”

Arthur held his hand up in a gesture that Merlin recognized from earlier to mean “Shut up, now.”

Something rustled in the trees up ahead and Arthur immediately dismounted his horse in one fluid moment, one hand grasping the handle of his sword in his sheath. 

“Who’s there?” His voice was calm in the face of a potential attacker in a way that Merlin had always quietly admired.

The quiet seemed to stretch on forever, until-

“Why, hello again,” a familiar voice drawled.

And there, fluttering out of the trees and settling on another branch in an altogether much too comfortable manner, was Galel, looking much more calm than he had at their last meeting. Merlin took note that his nails and teeth seemed to have returned to their previous immaculate state, and his previously dull grey wings were now a luminescent rose gold.

Arthur seemed conflicted on whether or not he should draw his sword. To Merlin’s delight, after he caught his eye, Arthur’s hand dropped to his side, his sword remaining in its sheath. When he spoke, his voice was terse, but not threatening.

“I meant you no harm, Fairy.”

Galel snorted and made eye contact with Merlin, tilting his head in a questioning way that Merlin took to mean _You have not told him of my true nature?_ Merlin shook his head just a fraction, hoping that Galel wouldn’t choose to exact revenge for the previous near-shooting incident by exposing Merlin in front of Arthur.

The Cherub finally tore his eyes away from Merlin’s with a look of understanding. Looking back to Arthur, Galel waved one small hand back and forth flippantly. “Yes, yes, you thought I was a pheasant, I heard. Not much of a hunter, are you, Arthur Pendragon?”

Arthur’s mouth opened to speak, a look of indignation on his face. 

“Why have you returned?” Merlin hastily interjected before Arthur could defend his hunting expertise.

“Well, once I realized that the prince wasn't actually trying to _kill_ me, something caught my interest. Oh yes, something very interesting indeed!” Galel had a glint in his eyes and was looking back and forth between Merlin and Arthur. He seemed to be talking to himself more than either of them. 

Arthur looked around at the ordinary forest around him, his eyebrow arched in disbelief. “Something caught your interest in _here?"_

Galel’s eyes twinkled and a sort of rosen glow seemed to emanate from the excitedly fluttering wings on his back. “Indeed, Arthur Pengradon. Just something I’ve been, ah, listening to. It’s got me feeling rather motivated. I just need to make sure- oh, yes, perfect!”

Galel had zeroed his gazed in on Arthur and now seemed to be concentrated very hard, his head cocked to the side as if he was taking in a very important lecture. After a few moments, he looked back to Merlin with a delighted look on his face. 

“Oh, wonderful! Just wonderful!” Galel was practically vibrating in his seat, clearly extremely pleased with whatever it was that he had sussed out.

Once again, Merlin had a sinking feeling in his gut. Arthur looked back at Merlin, a lost look on his face as Galel continued to mutter in hushed tones, rubbing his hands together excitedly. Merlin shrugged in response, rationalizing that a confused Arthur was better than an angry one.

“Hm, then, we’ll need something special for this. Oh, there’s just so much to unpack, so much left unspoken, dear me, how lovely! None of the usual nonsense, this needs- oh, I know exactly what!” As he spoke, Galel looked more alive and animated than Merlin had seen thus far, fitting his initial expectations of what the creature would be like perfectly. 

“Sorry,” Arthur ventured a tentative step towards Galel, hand still hovering at his side next to his sword. “But what exactly are you-"

And then, Galel’s eyes were glowing gold and a soothing string of words in the language of the Old Religion left his lips. As he listened to the melodic words, Merlin was filled with a sense of warmth and the most peculiar sensation that he was floating in a dream-like, rosey haze. A vague sense of panic registered in the back of his mind as he saw Arthur stumble, a dazed look on his face, but Merlin's limbs suddenly didn't seem to respond to him anymore. Out of the corner of his eye where Galel had just been floating, he saw a brief flash of gold, and then Merlin was falling, falling, falling out of consciousness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> five chapters in and i'm finally getting into the magical dream bond idea that sparked this whole fic - i hope you all enjoy the chapter, thank you again for reading and to everyone who commented on the last chapter!! it's so lovely hearing what people think of the fic so far, i really appreciate it <3

“Merlin? Merlin, wake up. Merlin!”

Merlin blearily blinked open his eyes to find Arthur leaning over him, one hand patting his face and a worried look on his face. Merlin tried very hard to suppress the brief flicker of emotion that he felt at the thought of Arthur being worried about him. 

But why was he worried again? Merlin’s head was pounding as he continued to stare up at Arthur, trying to recall what exactly had happened.

 _Oh right_ , Merlin realized. _Knocked out by a Cupid-wannabe who seemed way too invested in my feelings for Arthur. Excellent._

“Wow, sire, never knew you cared.” 

Arthur held his gaze for a few more moments before hurriedly pulling his hand away and standing up. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Merlin. Enjoying your nap, are you?” He scoffed and composed his features into something that looked a lot less like concern and a lot more like annoyance.

Merlin staggered to his feet. His brain felt foggy and disoriented, the way it did after waking up from a particularly convincing dream. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”

“Well then,” Arthur started conversationally, a hint of accusation in his voice. “Looks like your little friend wasn’t to be trusted after all.”

 _Couldn’t really argue there_ , Merlin thought. _Why on earth would he have cursed us?_

“Hold on, you think the creature cursed us?” Arthur had a panicked look on his face.

 _Oops._ Merlin was still getting used to the whole being awake thing and hadn’t exactly meant to say that out loud.

“No, no, I just meant-”

“I don’t feel cursed. Do you feel cursed?” Arthur did a quick once over of his own body before striding over to Merlin and grabbing him by one arm. “What’s my name? What kingdom are we from? How many fingers am I holding up?”

“What? Ow, _ow_ , jeez would you let go?” Arthur’s fingers were digging into Merlin’s arm. In all honesty, it wasn’t really enough to hurt, but having Arthur stand in such close proximity wasn’t very conducive to Merlin getting his brain to start functioning normally again.

Arthur looked down at where his hand was encircling Merlin’s arm, his eyes widening as if he hadn’t even realized he was doing it. He stepped back, putting a good amount of space between them, an mildly embarrassed look on his face.

“Sorry.” 

“No, no, it’s fine just - what the hell were you doing?”

Arthur rolled his eyes, all hints of his previous bashfulness gone. “Checking to see if you’re cursed, obviously. I thought it had just knocked us out and fled, but for once in your life, I think you might be actually right Merlin.”

 _Shit_. 

Although part of Merlin was genuinely concerned that Galel had enchanted them in service of some severely misguided matchmaking scheme, that really wasn’t something he wanted Arthur to be fixating on at the moment.

“Why on earth would a curse make me unable to tell how many fingers you’re holding up? It’s an enchantment, not a head injury.” Merlin took note of the alarmed look on Arthur’s face and quickly added, “Supposedly. If we have been enchanted, which I don't think we have.”

“Well, I don’t know all the details on how exactly curses work, do I now!” Arthur planted his sword in the ground at his feet and began to pace about. “What makes you so sure we haven’t been cursed?”

Merlin shrugged. “I feel fine, mostly. Oh, and three fingers.”

Arthur paused his pacing, and slowly turned to look at Merlin, one eyebrow raised quizzically, 

“Three fingers?”

“Three fingers, from before. Uh, that you were holding up.” 

“Right.” Arthur looked disconcerted, but resumed his pacing.

“So, not cursed! Based off of your own investigative methods, anyways.” Merlin spread his arms wide in a _ta-da!_ motion.

Arthur snorted at that, but quickly covered it with a cough. “Let me tell you, if we are cursed, next time we come across that creature, I really will put an arrow in it.”

Not exactly the direction Merlin was hoping he’d go in. “Arthur, would you relax? I’m sure we’re fine.”

Arthur scowled. “I don’t need _you_ to tell me to relax, Merlin. I am perfectly relaxed.”

“Oh, yes, forgive me sire, you’re the picture of composure.”

Arthur seemed to take notice of the fact that he was still pacing for the first time and with what seemed to be great effort, finally stilled himself a few steps away from Merlin, looking out into the forest.

“I suppose there’s not much we can do about it now.”

“Exactly,” Merlin spoke in as soothing a voice as he could considering his mind was also somewhat frazzled. “Let’s just get back to the castle and see what Gaius thinks.”

“Fine.”

Now that Arthur seemed to have settled down into a state of resignation, Merlin couldn’t resist getting one last dig in.

“Y’know, none of this would have happened if the visibility in the trees was just a bit better, wouldn't you say so, sire?”

Arthur looked affronted at that, but the look on his face quickly morphed into something more sheepish. He looked down and scanned his own body, evidently doing another once over for the potential remnants of any evil curse. 

“I really did think it was a pheasant,” he said mournfully, before trudging off in the direction of where the horses were tethered, leaving Merlin to snicker to himself and follow behind him.

* * *

As they made their way back into town, Merlin couldn’t help but notice that the townspeople seemed to be, for better or worse, back to normal. Arthur got a few sweeping bows and awed looks, but that had always been the case for as long as Merlin had lived in Camelot.

 _If the townspeople are no longer enchanted_ , _does that mean that Galel has regained control of his magic?_ Merlin wondered. _And if he has, doesn’t that mean that he-_

Merlin shook the thought out of his head. Maybe Galel had hit a little close to home when he got wind of Merlin’s more-than-friendly feelings towards Arthur, but that didn’t necessarily mean that his next matchmaking project would be _them._ Galel had stressed that the Cherubim focused their attention on people with a strong _mutual_ desire, which clearly wasn’t the case here. 

_No_ , Merlin thought. _There’s no way. As much of a snob Galel had been, he wouldn’t force people together on the basis of one sided feelings. He must have just found some other unwitting, in-love people to toy with. That must be it._

Merlin sighed. Why was he not convinced?

When they found Gaius (who appeared to be completely over his previous enchantment with Arthur) fiddling away with some experiment or another in his chambers, he was decidedly unimpressed with the results of their hunting trip. 

“You… you did what?”

Arthur had the decency to look ashamed. “I shot at it.”

“He thought it was a pheasant,” Merlin added, just to really drive the point home.

Gaius gaped at them both for a few moments. “Well,” He finally said. “That’s that then, I suppose.”

“That’s what?” Arthur asked, a panicked look on his face once again. “Can’t you tell if it did something to us?”

“Not necessarily, sire.” Gaius looked apologetic. “I won’t bore you with all the inner workings of fairy magic, but it doesn't tend to leave a trace on the human body. Unfortunately, this means we won’t quite know if anything is wrong until it, well - until it goes wrong.” 

Merlin made a mental note to thank Gaius later for not telling Arthur about all the specifics regarding the Cherubim and what exactly this particular type of fairy typically used magic _for._

“Perfect. Just perfect.” Arthur ran his fingers through his hair, making it stick up in a ridiculous fashion.

“Oh, look on the bright side - whatever ends up happening, at least we’ll be in this together.” Merlin deadpanned.

“Is that supposed to cheer me up?” 

“Thought it might.” Merlin grinned at him, hoping to restore some normalcy to the anxious energy that Arthur was exuding.

The corner of Arthur’s mouth twitched upwards, but then he heaved a great sigh and started to head for the door. Right before he left, he turned and faced Merlin once more. “And you’re absolutely sure you don’t remember anything the fairy might have said?”

On their ride back, Merlin had learned from a (very aggrieved) Arthur that he didn’t seem to remember any of the details of what Galel had said before he knocked them out. However, Merlin’s memory didn’t seem to be affected at all. Guess there was something beneficial about being the greatest sorcerer to ever walk to earth, or whatever. 

“Nope,” Merlin said, hoping Arthur couldn’t read the lie on his face. “S’all just a blur.”

“Whatever you say." Arthur narrowed his eyes at him before turning to look at Gaius. "I’m going to rest before the feast tonight, but Gaius, please, don’t hesitate to wake me if you find out anything useful.”

And with that, Arthur left the room, the door rattling shut behind him. Gaius turned to look at Merlin, an expression of disbelief on his face.

“Am I correct in assuming that you weren’t exactly truthful just now, Merlin?”

Merlin groaned and sank down in his seat, trying to bury his guilt at how easily lying to Arthur seemed to come to him. “Yes, yes! But for good reason, I swear.”

After Merlin had caught Gaius up on everything about the Cherubim and the details of what had happened out in the forest, Gaius’ solution of “wait and see” didn’t seem to change much.

“Well Merlin, I’ll do some research, but as I’ve said, there’s really not much else I can do! But if it’ll ease your mind, based on what you’ve just told me, I don’t believe this Cherub would act out of malice or intentionally put you or Arthur in any danger.” 

“But Gaius, he- he completely got the wrong idea! What if he ends up doing something strange to my dreams, or Arthur’s?”

“If you start having strange dreams about Arthur, or the prince starts to act oddly, we’ll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it then, won’t we?” Gaius shrugged his shoulders, looking supremely unconcerned. 

Merlin wasn’t exactly willing to share the fact that he had already been having what some might call “strange” dreams about Arthur for months now and that Galel had been adamant about the fact that they were his own. So, he simply nodded in resignation, bade Gaius goodbye, and headed into his room for a well-deserved nap.

* * *

_The familiar curtains in Arthur’s chambers, drawn open so that sunlight streamed into the room._

_A pillow and blankets, strewn across the floor haphazardly._

_Arthur’s voice, breathless and murmuring something he couldn’t quite make out._

_Golden hair, peeking out from under the covers where the whispering was coming from._

_A flash of Arthur’s hand being pressed into crimson sheets, his fingers intertwined with someone else’s._

_And most prominently, a sense of peace and contentment like none other._

Merlin woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest. He rolled over in his sheets, turning flat on the back so he could stare up at the ceiling.

Merlin was somewhat used to his less than platonic dreams about Arthur by now, but something about this one had felt… disjointed. Whether it was for better or for worse, Merlin’s dreams usually followed a coherent narrative, one that Merlin typically could recall all the details of after. It would be _Arthur and Merlin getting lost in the woods and huddling together for warmth_ , or _Arthur kissing him in the middle of a particularly heated argument_ , or _Merlin pulling him into a secluded corridor after some feast where they hadn’t been able to tear their eyes away from each other_ , or some other ridiculous fantasy that Merlin tried (and failed) not to daydream about during waking hours. 

The dream that Merlin had just awoken from had been more like bits and pieces of a bigger story that Merlin wasn’t quite privy to, and they were quickly fading to just fuzzy images in his memory. The flashes of fragmented images and emotions that Merlin could remember felt more like something Merlin was watching unfold, like he was standing in the corner of the room and watching, rather than something he was an active participant in. Regardless of the fact that Merlin rather liked being able to interact with Arthur in his usual dreams, this one was still no less bothersome, even with the lack of direct interaction. It didn’t matter that Merlin was nowhere to be seen - just the lingering sound of Arthur’s breathing and the visuals of Arthur’s hand so intimately intertwined with someone else’s were enough to make Merlin get straight out of bed to pour himself a cold bath. 

_Well_ , he thought ruefully as he poured his bath water. _I suppose Galel wouldn’t waste his time sending me dreams about Arthur when he pretty much knows full well that I already have them._

And as Merlin stripped and lowered himself into the icy water, bracing himself against the cold, he almost managed to convince himself that nothing was out of the ordinary.

* * *

"You’re dressed!”

Arthur looked up at him from where he was seated on the edge of his bed, hands folded under his chin in concentration. 

“I'm the future King of Camelot, I do have some talents, y’know,” Arthur grumbled as he got to his feet.

“I know, I know, I just-” Merlin spotted a corner of Arthur’s tunic tucked into his pants oddly and stifled a laugh. “Hang on, you’ve just got-”

“What?” Arthur looked down at himself, scowling when he noticed the spot where his tunic needed adjusting.

Merlin started towards him, hands outreached. “Here, let me-”

Arthur's eyes widened and he skittered away from him. “No, no, it’s fine. I got it.”

Merlin raised his hands and stopped in his tracks. “If you say so, sire.”

Every once in a while, Arthur randomly insisted on doing things himself and would all but ban Merlin from helping him get dressed or getting his bathwater ready, claiming that he was perfectly capable of doing such things on his own. As out of character as Merlin had found those moments at first, after a while he had figured it was part of Arthur’s growing desire to prove himself as a competent adult that could take care of himself and eventually rule a kingdom. 

Arthur stood by the wall, still regarding Merlin warily. “In fact, why don’t you take the rest of the day off Merlin?”

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “You sure you can make it through a whole feast without me?” 

Arthur coughed and turned away to open his wardrobe and rifle through his clothes.

 _Hopefully looking for a belt_ , Merlin thought.

“Perfectly sure I can manage it. Now, go on and pick flowers, or whatever it is you do all day.” Arthur’s voice was muffled as he threw articles of clothing behind him.

Well, Merlin wasn’t going to argue about a night off.

“You can look forward to a bouquet tomorrow, sire.” He headed towards the door, pausing before he left as he continued to hear the thumps of random objects hitting the floor behind him. “Oh, and Arthur?”

“What _is it_ Merlin?” Arthur finally pulled his head out of the wardrobe, looking thoroughly dishevelled. 

Merlin turned to look pointedly at Arthur’s belt where it was hanging on the back of his chair.

Arthur followed his gaze and a sheepish look came across his face.

“Oh. Thanks.” 

“Sometimes I wonder how on earth you’d get by without me,” Merlin said, leaning against the doorframe as he watched (not ogled - watched!) Arthur stride across the room towards the belt, fixing his tunic as he went. 

Arthur shot him a sardonic smile and a rude gesture that Merlin took to mean he was dismissed for the evening. So, he turned to leave and made his way back home, unable to keep a soft smile from spreading across his face as he did.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you ever going to learn to stop insulting me, Merlin?"  
> “Hm, let me think.” Merlin placed one thoughtful finger on his chin. “Nah, I’ve got to keep you on your toes, don’t I?”

The weather turned from pleasantly warm to oppressively hot and the next few weeks passed in a blur, with Merlin keeping himself as busy as possible - not like that was hard. His days were filled with running around after Arthur, helping Gaius, and just generally keeping an eye out for any sign that the people of Camelot were about to become spellbound by Arthur once more. But as no such event came to pass, Merlin spent most of his time trying to rationalize why that might be, considering it seemed nothing _too_ out of the ordinary was happening to him or Arthur either. 

_Perhaps Galel took pity on me_ , Merlin thought while he was tending to the horses. _And just went on his merry way matchmaking someone else_.

 _Maybe the Cherub lied_ , Merlin wondered as he flipped through one of Gaius’s books, trying to find out any information he could about the Cherubim. _Maybe he only said he couldn’t always control the magic to mess with me._

_Could it be that he was simply biding his time?_ Merlin pondered as he stared up at his ceiling, sleep evading him. _What if he’s out there in the forest right now, ready to toy with my dreams—or Arthur’s—at any moment?_

 _Or, what if Arthur’s fears were right, and Galel has already set some sort of scheme into action?_ The thought suddenly struck him as he was pouring a drink for Morgana at dinner, and her goblet slipped from his hands, clattering onto the floor loudly.

Uther looked on disapprovingly, shaking his head as Merlin muttered a quick apology and set off to get Morgana another drink.

“Oh, don’t worry about it Merlin.” Morgana was looking at him curiously, a spark of concern in her eyes. “I’ve probably already had enough anyways.”

“It’s not a problem, my lady, I’ll just be a minute-”

“Really, Merlin, I insist. Are you quite alright?” 

Morgana reached her hand out towards him, but Merlin dropped to his knees to mop up the spilt wine, avoiding her slightly hurt gaze as he did. Ever since Morgana’s time with the Druids, during which she had grown aware of her own magic, Merlin had trouble facing her without feeling the familiar guilt about how alone she must feel creeping back up on him. This was further confounded by Kilgharrah's continuous warnings to not trust her, however much Merlin felt in his gut that she had a good heart. Somewhat counterintuitively, this had led to him essentially avoiding her most of the time. After Gaius’s multiple lectures, Merlin had finally conceded that he would continue to keep her in the dark about his own magic, but Morgana had a kind of stubborn intuition that Merlin wasn’t always confident he could fool. 

“I’m fine, my lady, thank you for asking.”

“Probably just a long evening at the tavern, eh Merlin?” Arthur’s tone was jovial, but his eyes were tense as he glanced at his father, who was still looking at Merlin coldly. 

Uther’s dark expression lightened at Arthur’s joke, and as he chuckled and went back to decidedly ignoring Merlin, there was a look of relief in Arthur’s eyes. Merlin hastily finished cleaning the mess and went back to hovering in the background, grateful to have Uther’s glare off of him. Both Arthur and Morgana’s eyes followed him as he did, and only when Uther started to speak of the upcoming plans for a truce with some kingdom or another, did they both engage in the conversation once more. 

That night, his dreams consisted of flashes of a rageful Uther, glimpses of a shattered plate, and the distressing sounds of a child crying.

* * *

With each passing day that nothing jumped out at him as strikingly abnormal, Merlin’s worries about Galel gradually began to diminish. He spent his days trying to enjoy the rare moments of peace he got when nobody was telling him to _do this Merlin_ or _fix that Merlin_ or _fulfill your destiny to protect Arthur, bring magic back to the land, and unite Albion, no pressure though Merlin_. 

One day, in one of those rare, rare moments, Merlin came across Gwen absentmindedly staring off into space, a worried look on her face as she scrubbed the same spot on the floor repeatedly. 

“Floor looks plenty clean to me,” Merlin said as he approached her from behind.

Gwen jumped, clearly startled, then her features relaxed into a rueful smile as she looked behind her and saw Merlin. “Merlin, you frightened me!” 

Merlin held up his hands in a mock apology before settling down on the floor next to her and snatching the rag Gwen was using to clean away from her. “Can’t help it, I’ve got a very light tread. Besides, you were off in dreamland anyways.” 

“Come on, give that back!” She leaned forward and attempted to grab the rag back, but Merlin successfully held her off. 

He shook his head resolutely, then started to scrub some of the spots that Gwen had neglected in her daze. “Not until you tell me what’s got you all worried.” 

Gwen looked down at her hands. “I supposed I was rather distracted.” 

“Not having more dreams about Arthur, are you?” Merlin was only half-joking as he said this. 

Gwen shook her head emphatically, her eyes wide. “No, no, nothing like that! It’s actually -” She paused, then tilted her head to the side. “What even happened there, anyways? The next day everybody was just back to normal as if nothing had ever happened.”

Merlin quickly filled her in, conveniently skipping over anything that implicated his magical abilities or feelings towards Arthur. By the time he finished, Gwen’s brow was knitted together in bewilderment.

“But- but Merlin, if this _Cherub_ is truly only able to regain control of his magic if he begins channeling it back into matchmaking, how is it that the people of Camelot are back to normal?”

Merlin shrugged in response. “Your guess is as good as mine.” 

Her brow furrowed even more. “And what’s more, Merlin, why is it that you were not affected by the magic at all?”

“No clue.” Merlin feigned concentration on one particularly dirty spot on the floor, avoiding Gwen’s questioning look. “Also, you still haven’t told me what had you so distracted in the first place.”

Gwen bit her bottom lip, her previous questions apparently forgotten as she was reminded of whatever it was that was bothering her.

“It’s Morgana,” She finally said, her hands fiddling with the hem of her apron. “She seems so… withdrawn lately. Y’know, she was so looking forward to the feast of Beltane a few weeks back, saying how much she needed a celebration to take her mind off of things. But then the day of, she suddenly changed her mind and ended up not attending at all, saying she wasn’t feeling up to it!”

Merlin held back a sigh as his earlier feelings of guilt came flooding back. “Maybe it’s her nightmares. Have they gotten worse?”

“That’s the thing, she won’t tell me anything! She used to share everything with me, she used to confide in me about her nightmares, about _everything,_ but now…” Gwen trailed off, a frustrated look on her face. “I wonder if maybe I’ve done something wrong. Overstepped, in some way.”

Merlin hunched over and scrubbed at the floor harder, as if doing so would relieve him of the crushing guilt felt at her words. “I’m sure you’ve done nothing wrong, Gwen. You’re a loyal friend to us all and a wonderful person and Morgana thinks the world of you, you must know that.”

Gwen smiled at him, but her eyes were still anxious and she continued to nervously fiddle with her apron. “I appreciate that, I - I’ve just been worried about her.”

Merlin sat up straight and finally met her gaze. “That’s because you care about her, Gwen. And I understand how you must feel—trust me, I really do—but please, don’t blame yourself for whatever it is that Morgana is dealing with.” As he looked at her, his first friend in Camelot, Merlin was struck with a sudden urge to just come clean and tell her the truth, about his magic, about the relentless weight of his destiny, everything. He opened his mouth to speak, his thoughts not even fully formed in his head yet- 

Gwen took advantage of his distraction to snatch her rag back, laughing at the affronted look on Merlin’s face as she did. “Thank you, Merlin. Now while I appreciate your help, you’ve done quite enough! You go on and enjoy what little time you have to yourself. I’m sure Arthur keeps you busy enough as it is without you taking over my work as well.”

The urge to reveal his secret subdued once more by Gwen’s antics, Merlin rolled his eyes and stood up, patting her on the shoulder as he did. 

“You really don’t know the half of it, Gwen.” He leaned in, whispering conspiratorially. “The man can barely remember where he put his own belt.”

As Gwen giggled and shooed him away, her worries still rang in the back of his head. Merlin paused for a moment as he meandered down the corridor, then he turned and resolutely headed in the opposite direction. Perhaps he couldn’t share his secret with Morgana, but that didn’t mean he should continue avoiding her forever. 

* * *

Merlin steeled himself before knocking on Morgana’s chamber doors, not even quite sure of what he was going to say. After a few moments, the door creaked partially open and Morgana peeked her head out, her brow creased with a worry that never seemed to fade these days. Her eyes widened with shock upon seeing Merlin.

“Merlin.”

“My lady. Can I, um, speak to you for a moment?”

Morgana’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she let Merlin in and shut the door closed behind her. 

“I must confess, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Morgana stood with her arms crossed. She was as poised as she ever was, but Merlin could detect a hint of bitterness in her stance. 

“I know, I-”

“You’ve been avoiding me ever since - ever since you found out about me.” Her voice wavered slightly, but then she stood taller and her voice shook no more. “About my magic.” 

“I know. I came here to apologize.” Merlin forced himself to meet her piercing stare.

Morgana sighed and turned away, but not before Merlin caught a glimpse of the hurt look on her face.

“I suppose I can’t really blame you, I just- I thought we were friends.”

“We _are_ friends, I was just-”

“Scared?” Morgana whirled around defiantly, her eyes wild. “What, and you don’t think I am? Uther will have me executed if he finds out!” She spat the words out, then quickly schooled her features back into an impassive mask. The only thing betraying the gut wrenching fear that Merlin knew she felt was a slight tremble of her hand before she clenched her fist shut. 

“Morgana.” Merlin stepped towards her. “We won’t let that happen. I promise you.” 

His tone was low and soothing, intimate and comforting in a way that emulated how knights spoke to each other before a battle when they thought nobody was listening. The type of intimacy that came not from romance, but from a sense of kinship and shared fears, the kind that were rarely spoken about in the light of day. Merlin tried to convey all of that as he spoke, but he just couldn’t bring himself to take the final step and reveal that he too, was in this fight with her. 

After a few moments, Morgana’s gaze softened and she suddenly looked exhausted. “Thank you, Merlin, I- I shouldn’t be angry with you, honestly. You’ve been a good friend, not telling anyone about this.”

 _Not quite true_ , Merlin thought bitterly. _If I was such a good friend, I’d have the nerve to tell you that you aren’t alone in this._

“You can trust me, Morgana.” Merlin smiled at her tentatively. “I told you before that I wouldn’t tell anyone, and I intend to keep true to my word.” 

Morgana slumped into a chair and smiled up at him wearily. “I appreciate that, Merlin.”

“And I’m sorry for avoiding you, it’s just-” Merlin scrambled for a reasonable excuse. “It’s, uh, just a lot to take in.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I understand.”

“No, I do have to apologize. I never should have been avoiding you,” Merlin said. “But that changes now. I promise, from now on you can always talk to me. About your magic, about Uther, whatever.”

The ever-permanent worried crease on Morgana’s forehead seemed to relent slightly as she looked down at her hands, and for a moment, it seemed as if she was going to tell him something, but then ultimately decided against it. When she looked up again and smiled at Merlin, there was a hint of humor in her smirk.

“Does this mean you’re going to stop looking like you’ve seen a ghost and running the opposite way whenever you see me in the halls?” 

“I never did that!” 

Morgana narrowed her eyes at him in mock thoughtfulness.“If my memory serves me correctly, you definitely did, once or twice.” 

“If you say so, my lady.” Merlin inclined his head slightly and headed towards the door, all their formalities back in place, but less infallible than they had previously seemed. Before he left, he paused and added, “Gwen is worried about you, by the way.”

Morgana sighed. “I know, but I - I don’t want to get her involved in all of this.”

“She cares about you deeply,” Merlin said hesitantly. “She would never do anything to hurt you.”

“Oh, I know Gwen wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Morgana said, smiling in spite of herself. “But I just - I don’t know. If I were to tell her, I… I don’t want her to look at me differently. Like I’m something to fear.”

 _Ouch_ , Merlin thought. _Definitely can’t relate whatsoever to that sentiment._

He nodded in understanding, not trusting himself to say much more in case he let it slip just how much he related to her fears. “That’s fair. Just thought I would let you know.” 

“Thank you, Merlin.” The crease on her forehead hadn’t disappeared entirely, but Morgana looked less stressed than she had in weeks. “Sleep well.” 

“Goodnight, my lady.” 

And with that he left, closing the door on Morgana pensively staring at herself in the mirror. 

* * *

“Haven’t I already told you, this is a really bad idea?” 

Merlin jumped as he walked away from Morgana’s chambers, looking back to see Arthur leaning against the wall behind him with a disapproving look on his face.

 _Oh right_ , Merlin thought. _Arthur’s ridiculous notion that I’m into Morgana, as if I’m not quite busy keeping my feelings for him at bay._

“And haven’t I already told you,” Merlin said, spinning around to face him completely. “That you’ve got the wrong idea?” 

Arthur snorted and walked towards Merlin. “I really don’t think I do.” 

“Well, you might want to think harder, sire.” 

“Are you _ever_ going to learn to stop insulting me, Merlin?”

“Hm, let me think.” Merlin placed one thoughtful finger on his chin. “Nah, I’ve got to keep you on your toes, don’t I?”

“Better me than Morgana,” Arthur scoffed, then paused as his words processed. “I mean, she’d eat you alive if you spoke to her like that,” he quickly amended his statement.

“Well, I _don’t_ speak to her like that, because unlike some people, Morgana can actually look past superficial labels and considers me a friend,” Merlin said, looking at Arthur pointedly.

“I do consider you a-” Arthur cut his indignant statement off when he saw the triumphant expression on Merlin’s face. “Forget it. I’m not giving you the satisfaction of hearing it out loud.” 

And with a ridiculously endearing grumpy look on his face, Arthur marched away, turning the corner and heading out of Merlin’s sight.

“Oh, c’mon sire!” Merlin yelled after him, grinning from ear to ear. “Surely it can’t be so hard to admit that we’re frien-”

“Shut up, Merlin!” Arthur’s voice resounded clearly through the halls and Merlin couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he walked home, satisfied with the day’s events. 

That night his dreams were made up of glimpses of a girl who looked very much like a young Morgana wielding a toy sword and smiling victoriously, shouts of _no fair_ and _you cheated_ , and a peculiar, but pervasive, sense of envy swirling everywhere like a heavy fog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enter morgana!! since this is a merlin pov, i sadly can't include all the details that i wanted to about gwen & morgana's storyline throughout this fic, BUT i've started a collection of missing scenes that i'll sporadically update to fill in the gaps of what's going on with those two if anyone is interested! the first chapter explores what happened the night before the feast of beltane that made morgana not want to attend - you can find it [here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27130421/chapters/66251573) (a bit dark tonally so far so pls read the content warnings!!)
> 
> hope people enjoyed the chapter, thanks for reading and all the continued support!! <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You think that what?” Gaius looked at him incredulously.  
> Merlin sighed and repeated himself. “I think the Cherub connected our dreams somehow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay for merlin getting a clue! happy halloween and hope people enjoy the chapter :)
> 
> **content warnings: brief blood mention**

Recently, Merlin’s dreams had been nonsensical and bizarre in the way that dreams usually tended to be, but remained rather disjointed and sensory in a way that he was quickly growing used to. Sometimes he could see hints of his day to day life reflected in the glimpses, but typically, they were all over the place and in terms of subject matter and had nothing in common with each other. However, the one recurring dream he continued to have over and over (and over, and over, and _over_ ) was of Arthur laying in his bed under the covers, whispering sweetly to someone Merlin would never see. 

In reality, however, Arthur was as irritating as ever. As the summer wore on, he seemed to spend more and more time working on his hand to hand combat, practicing on (pummeling, really) the beaten up sandbag hung in the courtyard with renewed vigour each and every morning. Merlin spent most of this time sweating as he braced himself behind the sandbag, ridiculously thankful that the glaring sun necessitated squinting and impeded his sight of Arthur as he boxed. Heaven knows he already had more than enough fantasy material. 

One night, after a particularly gruelling evening session, Merlin had a dream that he couldn’t quite remember anything about, other than a vivid image of the sandbag growing arms and punching Arthur back.

* * *

A few days later, Morgana rushed in late to supper, but went on to spend the evening in oddly high spirits. When Gwen furtively made her way in to serve food a few moments after her, Merlin noticed that she too was in an excellent mood. Eventually, she joined Merlin where he was hovering in the background, still smiling absentmindedly. 

“Those are nice,” Merlin whispered, pointing at the delicate lilac wildflowers arranged in Gwen’s hair.

Her hand flew up to her hair as if she had forgotten about them. “Oh, thank you!” She paused and then looked up at him with a small smile on her face. “Morgana actually picked them for me… something about apologizing for being in a mood lately. Not that she needed to apologize at all, of course.”

“That’s sweet of her.” Merlin smiled. “She’s feeling better then?” 

“According to her, yes.” Gwen made eye contact with Morgana across the room, who arched an eyebrow while she took a sip from her goblet. Gwen’s smile grew and she suppressed a giggle and looked away, a faint blush on her cheeks. Merlin watched them fondly, before his gaze gravitated towards Arthur (as it often tended to do) and he realized that he was watching Gwen and Merlin with a shrewd look on his face. 

That night, Merlin’s dreams consisted of an avalanche of flowers raining down from the rooftops of the castle, a knight in full armour that looked as small as an ant standing below to watch the display, and a sinking feeling that he was about to get crushed.

* * *

Later that same week, Merlin was woken up abruptly in the middle of the night by a more than disturbing dream that consisted of flashes of Arthur sneaking the young druid boy out of Camelot and unsettling glimpses of the forest floor, it’s dark brown soil soaked with splatters of blood, all set to the clamouring sounds of swords in in the distance. 

The dream was so vivid and nightmarish that Merlin couldn’t get back to sleep and elected to have an early (very, very, early) start to the day instead. The lingering, haunting feelings from the nightmare combined with his complete lack of sleep made for what ended up being an extremely shitty day, which was exacerbated by Arthur also spending the day in sullen, withdrawn, silence. He wasn’t irritating or aggravated or giving Merlin ridiculous tasks to complete - he was just quiet. Merlin found that he almost preferred Arthur constantly bickering with him over the silence.

Arthur’s morose mood continued on into the next day, but in the time he had spent with him, Merlin had developed a few tricks for cheering Arthur up when he got like this. Nothing too spectacular, nothing that would solve whatever epic internal emotional dilemma Arthur was surely facing at the time, but he found that certain little things or small gestures were fool-proof in putting a smile on Arthur’s face - at least for a little while. One of those things happened to be fresh pears grown in the fields nearby, the sweetness of which Arthur claimed could solve most of humanity’s grievances with just one bite. As the farms neighboring Camelot hadn’t harvested this year’s batch of pears yet, Merlin took an opportune moment when Arthur was stuck in the shirt he was currently pulling over his head (and tugging at in a decidedly inelegant fashion) to conjure one up.

 _“Blóstmá,”_ he whispered under his breath, and a fresh pear bloomed out of nothing in his hands.

“Did you say something Merlin?”

“Ah, nope, just clearing my throat.”

When Arthur had finally re-emerged from his prison of fabric, his hair was mussed and he looked quite flustered, but nonetheless, his eyes widened when he spotted the pear in Merlin’s hands. 

“Where on earth did you get that, Merlin? I didn’t think they were in season yet!”

“Er, Gaius has been doing some experiments on improving growing conditions for fruit year-round. Here.” Merlin honestly could have said any excuse at this point, because Arthur’s gaze was fixed on the pear and from the glazed look on his face, he wasn’t really paying attention to Merlin’s words anyways. Merlin tossed him the pear, holding back a laugh at the horrified look on Arthur’s face when he almost failed to catch it.

“Y’know, Merlin,” Arthur paused to take a bite of the pear and groaned in appreciation before continuing to speak in between bites. “It’s moments like these that make me rethink my whole ‘I’m a prince so we can’t be friends’ thing.” 

“Oh please,” Merlin scoffed. “You basically already admitted that you’d be lost without my undying friendship the other day.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Arthur said as he held up a finger, still looking comical with his mouth much too full. “But based on how damn good this pear is, and that _alone_ , I’m willing to reconsider it.” 

_You’re lucky you’re cute_ , Merlin wanted to say, watching Arthur munch on the pear happily.

Instead he rolled his eyes and turned to clear Arthur’s breakfast plates off the table, since apparently Arthur’s whole _I’m the future king of Camelot and I can do things myself_ shtick didn’t apply to hauling dirty dishes down to the kitchen. 

That night, Merlin dreamt there was a huge pear, as big as a house, sitting in the courtyard of the castle. Even more bizarre, from what Merlin could tell from the glimpses of people that he remembered, everyone who saw it continued to go about their days without a second look, steadfastly ignoring the pear as if it had been part of the scenery all along.

* * *

“I had the strangest dream last night.” 

Arthur, although a tad bit groggy from just waking up, seemed to be in a better mood this morning. He lay in bed with his arms stretched out behind his head, watching Merlin open the drapes and get his breakfast ready, not even complaining when Merlin took a biscuit from the platter and stuffed it into his own mouth. 

“So did I,” Merlin tried to say, but his mouth was still full of biscuit and he ended up spewing crumbs onto the floor.

Arthur sighed, but there was a tinge of fondness in his expression. “I dreamt a huge pear just randomly appeared in the courtyard once morning.”

Merlin froze. 

“It was the most bizarre thing, I swear, it must have been bigger than a house! And I remember I was looking at it from my window and wondering, well, why the hell is there a giant pear in the yard, right?” Arthur stretched as he spoke, then yawned before reluctantly rolling out of bed and continuing, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “But all the townspeople and the knights and everyone, they were just ignoring it and continuing on like everything was normal. Then I think maybe I suggested we eat it? I don’t know.”

 _Breathe_ , Merlin told himself, forcing himself to unfreeze from his spot and continue on with his task. _Maybe it’s a coincidence_. 

“Very strange,” he managed to croak out. “Think you might have enjoyed that pear from yesterday a bit too much?”

Arthur snorted and settled down at the table to eat his breakfast. “Perhaps. Go on, what was your dream then?”

“Oh, just that, uh,” Merlin scrambled mentally for something not involving a giant pear. “Just that I was, uh, falling.” 

“Well, that’s not very original, is it?” Arthur looked almost disappointed. 

“S’pose not.” Merlin forced out, trying his best to hide the internal freak out that he was currently having at the thought that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t a coincidence. 

* * *

The next day, when Merlin casually inquires about Arthur’s dreams ( _Dream of any more giant fruit, sire?_ ), he finds that his own flashes of a knight, sad woodland creatures, and an axe being sharpened, were actually part of a larger dream in which a mysterious knight arrived in Camelot, claimed he could talk to animals, and was promptly executed after proving it.

The day after that, when Merlin asks again, ( _Why d’you keep asking about my dreams?_ Arthur had asked, a suspicious look on his face), he learns that Arthur had dreamt that the forest beyond the lowertown had suddenly gained sentience and waged an attack on Camelot. Merlin reasoned that the visions he’d had last night of angry trees planting their roots over houses in the lowertown fit into that quite reasonably, then hid in the hallway while he panicked mildly.

That night, Merlin had his recurring dream of Arthur intimately murmuring to an unknown someone as he lay in bed under the covers. For obvious reasons, along with the fact that he couldn't think of more casual ways to ask about Arthur’s dreams, Merlin failed to confirm that Arthur had the same one the next morning. However, judging from the dazed look on Arthur’s face when he woke him up and the way that Arthur drew his blankets to pile up around him in heaps, effectively obscuring his lower half, Merlin was pretty certain that he had. 

* * *

Gaius, as it turned out, wasn’t much help when Merlin told him about his discovery that evening.

“You think that _what?”_ Gaius looked at him incredulously.

Merlin sighed and repeated himself. “I think the Cherub connected our dreams somehow.”

“Well,” Gaius began slowly. “Nothing in any of my books suggests that they are even capable of doing such a thing, or why they would even bother. Creating such a bond goes far beyond their usual mischief.”

 _Wonderful,_ Merlin thought. _Of course Galel had to go and be a smarmy overachiever too._

“Then I suppose none of your books say anything about how I can fix it either?

Gaius shook his head helplessly. “The only halfway useful thing any of them say is that a Cherub’s resolve is not easily dissuaded. It seems their magic ceases only when the Cherub decides that their interference has run its course.” 

“That’s a little less than halfway useful,” Merlin grumbled, getting to his feet and heading for the door. 

“Merlin, just where do you think you’re going?” 

“Where d’you think?” Merlin said, pulling on his coat. “If the Cherub is the only one who can undo this- this _mistake_ , I have to go to him directly.”

“Did you ever stop to consider that the Cherub might have a motive beyond this ridiculous,” Gaius stumbled over his words. “Matchmaking business?’

Merlin paused, already halfway out the door. “Such as?” 

“The Cherubim might seem frivolous in their activities, but they are creatures of the Old Religion as well, Merlin. I’m sure the small matter of your destiny and the future of magic in Camelot is of some interest to them - I would not be surprised if that has something to do with it.” 

“All the more reason to go and have a chat then, wouldn’t you say?” Merlin smiled wearily at Gaius, who sighed and waved him away in a long suffering manner in response, then made his way out the door and down the hall. 

As he all but ran towards the exit, Merlin turned a corner to see Gwen, lugging a huge sack behind her, the bag scraping across the floor unpleasantly as she tried to get it to keep moving.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Merlin said, slowing to a walk behind her.

As easily spookable as ever, Gwen jumped and looked around wildly before settling into a mock frown when she spotted Merlin, one hand resting over her heart. 

“One of these days, you’re really going to give me a heart attack and then you’ll be sorry,” she admonished him, the corner of her mouth quirking up into a reluctant smile.

“You give yourself too little credit, Gwen. Besides,” Merlin nudged at the sack on the floor with the toe of his boot. “If you’re strong enough to lug all this around, I’m sure your heart won’t go down too easily.”

Gwen rolled her eyes and looked down at the sack, wiping a bead of sweat off her brow. “It’s just some armour I’ve been working on, I thought I might see if the royal armoury was interested…” 

“You’re opening the business again?” Merlin knew Gwen was a gifted blacksmith, but her family shop had been closed since Tom’s death.

She shrugged one shoulder, a small smile on her face. “Could always do with some extra money. After my father… well, Arthur and Morgana both offered to help out, but- oh, I don’t know. I thought I’d try to make use of what skill I have.” 

“Of course, I understand.” Merlin paused, watching Gwen struggle to get the sack of armour moving across the floor again, wishing he could stay to help her. “I wish I could help you move all this, but I’ve got to, ah, go pick some herbs for Gaius.”

She looked up at him quizzically. “At this hour? It’ll be dark soon.”

“They, um, are most fresh when picked at night,” Merlin said, trying not to look suspicious.

“I see. Well, don’t worry about it Merlin,” Gwen’s brow was furrowed, but she smiled and didn’t question him further. “The armoury is just around the next corner, it’ll only take me another minute.”

“Right. Ah, sorry. See you later?”

“Of course. Goodnight, Merlin.”

Merlin started to walk away, then paused. “Oh, and try lifting with your knees. It, uh, makes things feel much lighter than they are.” He continued walking past Gwen towards the exit.

Once Merlin was reasonably sure he was out of earshot, he whispered _“álíhtan”_ under his breath, smiling as he heard Gwen’s little _oh!_ of surprise when the sack of armour suddenly seemed to weigh much less than it should. 

What he missed, however, was Gwen straightening up as she lifted the sack and staring hard after him, her brow scrunched together in a mixture of concentration and confusion as if she was solving a particularly difficult math equation.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note on updates! i am entering finals season (ugh) so this fic is going on mini-hiatus until the second or third week of december. until then, thanks again for reading and i hope people enjoy this chapter :)
> 
> **content warnings: description of a panic attack**

By the time Merlin had reached the forest’s edge, the sun had already set and he knew it would be nearly impossible to make his way through the thick growth of trees without stumbling over a tree root every other minute. Merlin did a quick cursory check over his shoulder for any lingering townsfolk, then closed his eyes in concentration.

 _“Léoht_ ,” he thought, and when he opened his eyes, a small ball of light had appeared in the palm of his hand, illuminating the path before him. 

_Well,_ Merlin thought. _Best get this over with._

And so he made his way through the overgrowth, ready as he would ever be to confront Galel about whatever ridiculous and misguided plan he was carrying out by connecting Merlin and Arthur’s dreams.

* * *

“Galel,” Merlin hissed. “I know you're lurking out here somewhere.”

There was no response. 

“C’mon, you said last time you could feel me searching for you, right? Can’t you feel that now?”

Still no response. Somewhere behind him in the trees, a twig snapped and Merlin’s head swivelled, looking for the source of the noise. Several moments passed without anything stirring. Then, from the opposite direction-

“So we meet again, Emrys.”

There Galel was, in all his snooty, pointy, irritating glory. Merlin had to remind himself to be polite, lest he end up cursed even further.

“Galel.” Merlin nodded cordially. “You must know why I’m here.”

“Perhaps. But why don’t you tell me anyways?”

“You cursed us,” Merlin said, hoping his voice didn’t betray how much of a nuisance he was finding all of this. “Arthur and I.”

“Curse? That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?” Galel snorted. “Anyhow, I thought it’d take you all summer to figure it out, my goodness Emrys, it’s been weeks! A bit slow on the uptake, are we?”

“So you did,” Merlin said, ignoring the insult. “You made it so that Arthur and I have the same dreams.”

“Hm,” Galel studied his nails. “Not quite, but close.”

Merlin resisted the urge to throw something at him. “What exactly did you do then?”

“I merely have provided you with a window into the young Pendragon’s dreams, Emrys, nothing too dire. You can unclench now.”

Merlin did not unclench. Instead, he felt a growing sense of horror creeping up on him. “So, you meant to say that all of my dreams over the past week… I was just looking in on Arthur’s?”

“Correct.”

“But you’ve done nothing to alter his actual dreams?”

“Correct again Emrys, you’re on a roll.”

Merlin couldn’t hold back his incredulousness any longer. “What kind of sick, voyeuristic scheme is this?” He sputtered. “I mean why in the hell would you do this, what were you possibly hoping to achieve?” 

Galel sighed, looking supremely exasperated. “It’s more a matter of what I’m trying to prevent, Emrys.” 

_Wait, what?_ Gaius’s words about the Cherub possibly having some sort of investment or interest in Merlin's supposed destiny and magic’s place in Camelot suddenly came to mind.

“Is there something else then?” Merlin asked slowly. “Some other reason why you’re doing this? Something related to my destiny?”

“Eugh.” Galel pulled a face.“Destiny, destiny, destiny, that’s really all you ever hear about these days.”

“Well clearly that must be it!” Merlin exclaimed. “You told me yourself that the Cherubim only interfere with people with a mutual desire for each other, which clearly isn’t the case here. So since the romance bit is out of the question, there must be some other reason why you’re doing this!”

Galel sighed again. “Oh, Emrys, so wise, yet so misguided. There is a lot I could say on that subject, but alas, it does not seem you are ready to hear it.”

“What on earth are you going on about?”

Galel looked like he was going to say something else but bit his tongue. “Emrys, do you understand how the Cherubim do what we do? Truly, deeply understand?”

“Um, kind of?” Merlin took in Galel’s arched eyebrow of disbelief. “Okay, not really.”

“You must first know this: it is not in our nature to go against any individual's will or take away their agency to do as they please.”

“Okay,” Merlin began, drawing out the word. “How exactly do you go about your matchmaking business then? Do you not just bombard people with dreams of the other person?”

“Of course not, because Emrys, what does that truly fix?” Galel shook his head for emphasis. “No, no, the Cherubim’s goal is to address the root problems between a couple, to solve whatever issue that is impeding the union between the two.”

“I don’t understand.”

Galel sighed. ”Of course you don’t. Alright, for example, let's take a young man too insecure to tell his potential lover how he feels, or let's say two young women who are in denial about their own feelings for each other. Now tell me, if we simply bombarded them with dreams of that person, would that solve anything?

“Er… I guess not?”

“Exactly, for the root of the issue, his insecurity, their denial, is still there. Instead, we’d send him dreams that raise his confidence so that he is finally able to act on his own feelings, or dreams that help those women come to the realization of their feelings on their own. Our work hinges on the assumption that with a little help, you humans are capable of reflection and growth.” 

Merlin frowned, taking this information in. “That doesn’t seem like it would have a very high success rate.”

“We do what we can.” Galel shrugged. “Now Merlin, what do you suppose the underlying issue is in your own situation?”

“I- I don’t know. I’ve been doing everything Kilgharrah told me, protecting Arthur-”

“Pah!” Galel had an irritated look on his face “That silly dragon does nothing but speak in riddles.”

“Well, it's not as if you’re being super straightforward about this all either!” Merlin paused as Galel’s words sunk in. “Wait, you know Kilgharrah?”

“Oh yes, very well. You must be careful, Emrys, for not all intentions are as they seem.”

“I… I still don’t understand.”

“You will, with time. But back to the point at hand. You and the young Pendragon. I must confess,” Galel stroked his chin as he spoke, seemingly deep in thought. “Although it’s true that this whole destiny business isn’t exactly what caught my interest about you two, I do feel some… sympathy for the plight you find yourself in. Or rather, that you will find yourself in.”

Merlin made a mental note to ask Gaius if the Cherubim had any seer abilities, because the way Galel was speaking, it was if he could see Merlin’s future laid out right in front of him, and from the look on his face, whatever it held didn’t look good.

“My plight? So this does have to do with my destiny, not my, uh, feelings for Arthur?”

“Tell me Emrys,” Galel said, speaking the way one would to a very small child. “Why are you so sure that the two are mutually exclusive?” 

“What the hell are you talking about? Why could showing me Arthur’s dreams possibly have any impact on my destiny?”

“It might not, despite my hopes. I have seen the path that lies ahead for you, and it is the result of many choices, many of which are of your own making. But I am doing what I can to help you address the root issues between you and the prince so that you might avoid a future I’m sure you would find less than satisfactory.”

“You-you’re trying to help me? But why? And what exactly is it that I need to avoid?”

“I cannot tell you how exactly the future will unfold, I only know what is fated. As for why, I-” Galel paused and looked at him with a glimmer of sympathy in his eyes. “I know what it is to be alone, Emrys. It is not a fate I would wish upon anyone. It might not seem like much, but it is my hope that this might lead to, among other things, the realization that you do not have to bear the burden of your destiny alone.” As Galel continued, he seemed to be looking at something beyond the trees behind Merlin. “In fact, I think that might change sooner than you think.” He shot Merlin a mildly apologetic smile, and with another flash of golden light, vanished.

“Merlin?” A familiar voice rang out behind him at that exact moment.

Merlin’s heart dropped. He turned around to stare into the startled face of Gwen, emerging from behind a tree, her eyes wide with bewilderment. As her gaze dropped to the ball of light in Merlin’s hand, they widened even further and Merlin felt his stomach twist into knots at the realization that there was no getting out of this. The ball of light flickered and then extinguished, casting them both into oppressive darkness, the weight of which was nothing in comparison to the crushing panic Merlin already felt bearing down upon him.

“Merlin, what’s- what’s going on?” 

“Gwen, I-”

All of a sudden, Merlin couldn’t speak, he could barely breathe. Nor could he see Gwen’s face anymore, she was nothing but a vaguely human shaped figure, stumbling towards him and calling out his name, a note of concern in her voice, which was quickly becoming tinny and faint, like it was coming through the end of a very long tunnel. 

_This is Gwen_ , he thought. _You’ve been wanting to tell her, tell anybody since your first day in Camelot. You know she wouldn’t hurt you._ _You can trust her._

But for some reason, Merlin’s attempt to calm down and rationalize the situation didn’t translate to his body and he found himself pulling at his neckerchief, desperately trying to just get some air back in his lungs, and scrambling backwards, away from Gwen’s outreached hands, until his back collided with the solid trunk of a tree. His legs gave out and Merlin slid down, hitting the ground hard.

The Gwen shaped mass continued to clamber towards him, stumbling over branches and tree roots as she came, until eventually she settled to her knees in front of him. Merlin couldn’t bring himself to meet her gaze.

“Merlin, I-” She reached out, her hand wandering in mid air until she found his arm and placed a gentle hand on it. “Are you alright?”

“You saw it,” Merlin finally croaked out once his breathing had settled. “The light.”

He felt, rather than saw, her nod. “You… you’re a sorcerer?”

Merlin felt her clutch his arm tight as she said this, and he closed his eyes and prayed that what he said next wouldn’t make her recoil in disgust and fear.

“Yes.”

There was a long pause.

“Merlin,” she said, jostling his arm slightly. “Look at me.”

“Can hardly see you anyways,” Merlin mumbled, still looking at the ground.

“Surely there’s something you can do to fix that?”

Merlin’s breath skipped and he wondered if she meant what he thought she meant. Quickly, before he lost his nerve, he thought _léoht_ , and heard Gwen’s small gasp of surprise at the ball of light appearing in his palm once more. As it’s light illuminated her face, Merlin saw that her gaze was no longer fixed upon the ball of light in his hand as it had been before. Instead she was looking at him with a mixture of wonder and worry, her brow furrowed as she continued to clutch his arm, but her eyes as kind and warm as they ever had been.

“Merlin. You are the strangest, kindest, most genuine soul I have ever known, not to mention, my very best friend.” She paused for a moment, and when she continued again, her voice was choked with emotion. “I don’t- I can’t pretend I understand all, or any, really, of what I just heard or saw, but you- you don’t need to be scared of me, I won’t tell anyone, I promise. Don’t for a second think that I would ever do anything to hurt you, magic or not. You have nothing to fear, least of all from me.”

And Merlin’s heart broke a little at the realization that Gwen was worried that _she_ had scared _him,_ and although there was some truth to her concerns, he simply shook his head, not trusting his voice, and enveloped her in a hug. As he moved, the ball of light had floated out of his hand as if in tune with his every thought and came to a standstill next to them as they clung onto each other. 

“And you, nothing to fear from me,” Merlin finally said when he found his voice again.

“Honestly Merlin,” Gwen’s voice vibrated against his chest as she spoke, and Merlin felt her smile. “The thought of being afraid of you had never even occurred to me.” 

“How many times have I told you, Gwen,” Merlin pressed his cheek into her hair, still mildly in shock and utterly grateful to whatever beings had deemed him worthy of having a friend like Gwen. “I’m stronger than I look!”

“Yes,” she said as she pulled back and smiled up at him in agreement. “And now I guess I finally know why!” 

As Gwen chuckled softly and (bless her soul) pretended to not notice as Merlin wiped one runway tear off his face, the ball of light shone brighter than ever, dispelling all the darkness surrounding them until Merlin could feel nothing but it’s warmth radiating all around. 

* * *

"So, you followed me?”

The two of them were slowly making their way back home through the forest, Gwen still sneaking awed glances at the ball of light as it lit the path ahead of them.

“Um,” Gwen said in response.

“Eloquent.” 

“Okay, yes I followed you!” Gwen huffed out a small laugh and held her hands up in concession. “I don’t know why, I just - I had this feeling that something was off ever since you told me about the Cherub and I realized you weren’t impacted by the enchantment. And then earlier tonight, with the armour… I thought I heard you whisper something and then it was suddenly light as a feather! So when I was heading back from the armoury and saw you enter the forest, I- I don’t really know why I decided to follow you, but I’m glad I did.”

“Huh,” Merlin said, mentally noting that Gwen’s hearing was ridiculously good. “Not even an apology for eavesdropping, hm?”

Gwen lightly smacked him on the arm, but there was a smile on her face. “Stop joking around, Merlin, I’m still trying to wrap my head around this all. You’re telling me that this whole time, ever since you arrived in Camelot, you’ve been protecting Arthur?”

“Yep,” Merlin said, revelling in how good it felt to talk about this with someone who wasn’t Gaius (as much as he loved him). “I swear, Gwen, _every other week_ someone tries to kill him!”

“Sounds like tiresome work,” Gwen responded, letting out a small chuckle. “But the Cherub, it sounds as if he is trying to change your fate?” 

“It is _exhausting,_ but apparently that is my destiny, so there you have it.” Merlin frowned as he recalled Galel’s words. “And as for what the Cherub said, I- honestly, I’m just as confused as you are right now.”

“Fair enough,” Gwen said, shooting him a sly smile “But anyways, based off of what I heard back there, I’m quite sure you would be protecting Arthur regardless, destiny or not.”

“Maybe.” Merlin looked at her just as furtively, trying to assess if they needed to discuss the matter of his feelings for Arthur.

“Not maybe. Definitely,” she retorted, looking up at him with a knowing smile on her face, and Merlin knew without discussing it further that she already understood. No words were needed.

After a few moments, Merlin broke the comfortable silence that had fell between them. “That is- that is only part of it though.”

“Oh?” 

“I… in protecting Arthur, my destiny is to see him unite the land of Albion and eventually… eventually bring magic back to Camelot.”

“I see, “ Gwen said. “It can’t be easy living in fear that Uther will chop your head off,” she added after a moment. 

“But Gwen!” Merlin was still in shock at how calmly she seemed to be taking all of this. “I thought- after everything that’s happened, after what happened to your father, I thought-”

Gwen shook her head furiously. “I blame Uther for his death, not magic.” 

“Weren’t you always taught that magic was evil?”

“Well, yes,” Gwen said, pursing her lips. “I was. But everybody knows that Uther is driven mad with his hate of magic. Not all of us think it’s inherently evil - you, Merlin, are living proof of that.”

Silence fell upon them once more.

“Thank you,” Merlin finally said when he was sure that his voice wouldn’t tremble.

“Don't thank me, Merlin. And one day, Arthur will be able to see it the same way, trust me.” Gwen smiled at him, then stopped in her tracks as if something had just struck her. “Oh God, Arthur! The dreams! Merlin, you have to tell him what’s going on.”

“What? Tell Arthur that I’m going to be peeping in on all his dreams for the foreseeable future, are you mad?”

“Merlin, he has the right to know! I’m not saying you need to tell Arthur about-” Gwen waved her arm in an all-encompassing gesture that Merlin took to mean _your magic, destiny, and feelings for him_. “About _everything_ , not right now anyways, just that the Cherub enchanted you and now you can see all his dreams. It wouldn’t be right to keep it from him and you know it.”

 _Ugh_ , Merlin thought. _Why did Gwen always have to be right?_

“I know, I just-” Merlin huffed out a sigh. “I don’t think he’ll take it very well.”

“Who knows,” Gwen said, linking her arm with his as she got moving again. “Perhaps he’ll surprise you.”

“Perhaps,” Merlin responded as they finally approached the boundary of the forest, lights from lanterns in the lower town shining through in between the trees. “But there’s someone I need to have a word with first.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> later than expected, but im back friends!!! thanks to everyone for reading, i hope you all continue to enjoy this fic <3

“Are you quite finished?” Merlin asked, his patience finally worn out from waiting in resignation for Kilgharrah to stop laughing.

Kilgharrah paid him no mind and continued to laugh relentlessly. Eventually, he spoke:

“Your dreams, connected to Prince Arthur’s?” If Kilgharrah had been human, he would have been wiping tears of mirth away from his face as he spoke. “As funny as I find it, this is not quite as life or death as the problems you usually come to me with, young warlock.”

“Thought it’d be worth a try to see if you might be able to help.” _Clearly, I was wrong_ , Merlin thought, none too happily. 

“I am sorry, but I do not believe I will be of much help to you,” Kilgharrah responded. “And you said this was the work of a Cherub?”

“Yes.” Merlin frowned as he recalled Galel’s thinly veiled allusion that Kilgharrah was not to be trusted. “In fact, he seemed to know you.”

“Oh?” Kilgharrah already seemed bored with the conversation. 

“His name is Galel.”

Kilgharrah rolled his eyes. “Ah, Galel. Doesn’t seem like it, but quite the romantic he is - even for a Cherub.” 

“He didn’t seem to trust you,” Merlin continued bluntly, determined to get to the bottom of this. “He said your intentions were not all that they seem.”

Kilgharrah huffed, a puff of smoke leaving his nostrils as he did. “I have never lied to you, young warlock, nor have I ever promised you help without something in return. You already know what it is I desire.”

“Yes, yes, I know I’m to free you, but- but that can’t be all. Galel wouldn’t care if I freed you or not.”

“The Cherubim have always been in defiance of destiny, always believing they know what’s best. They think they can alter fate, believe themselves entitled to interfere where they need not.”

“He seemed like he wanted to help… he said something about me not doing this alone.”

“Such an idealist,” Kilgharrah grumbled.

“But what does he mean?” Merlin pressed on. “Who does he speak of when he says I’m not to do this alone. Does he mean Arthur?”

“I have told you many times that the prince and you are two sides of the same coin-”

“So that’s it then? That’s who Galel meant?”

“I know not,” Kilgharrah said, looking mildly irritated at the interruption. “Both the Cherub and I are the same in that we cannot see how exactly the path unfolds, only what is fated to happen.”

“Well you’re both no use then, are you,” Merlin mumbled under his breath.

Kilgharrah studiously ignored him and continued. “While the Cherub and I likely both have the same goal of seeing magic returned to Camelot once more, he is arrogant and thinks he knows better than I about what course to take to set that future into motion.”

“He said he… feels sympathy for me. Why would he?”

Kilgharrah suddenly looked uneasy, avoiding eye contact. “I do not have the answers or help you seek, young warlock. You are alone on this one.”

And with that, Kilgharrah flew off into the darkness of his cavern, the echoes of his chains rattling behind him bouncing off the cave walls, leaving Merlin alone, with more questions than he had before, and facing the daunting task of telling Arthur about their newfound connection.

* * *

“Say, sire,” Merlin started, mentally berating himself for putting his task off until quite literally the last second, as Arthur was about to go to bed and bound to kick him out in a minute. “Do you remember the, um, fairy we ran into a few weeks back?”

“Yes, of course.” Arthur paused in front of his bed where he had been about to settle in for the night. “Why, is something wrong?”

“No! No, er, not at all.” Even Merlin had to admit he sounded suspicious beyond belief.

Arthur raised a skeptical eyebrow in response.

“Okay, maybe a little bit.”

“Well, go on then,” Arthur said with a resigned look on his face.

“So, um,” Merlin began, then paused. “Well, you see-” 

“Spit it out!” 

“I think our dreams have been connected somehow.” Merlin winced internally, waiting for Arthur to freak out. However, after a few moments, Arthur was still standing by his bed, as still as a statue.

“What on _earth_ are you talking about.” He seemed to force the words out, lips barely moving. 

“Um, remember how I’ve been asking about your dreams lately? I sort of… Isortofhadallthesamedreams.”

_“Excuse me?”_

“I, uh. Had all the same dreams as you. So I think I’ve been enchanted to see-”

Arthur cut him off before Merlin could explain further. “You’ve been seeing all of my dreams.”

“Well, kind of. A bit. Yes.”

Silence settled over the room as Merlin determinedly stared at the floor. 

“Er, sorry,” Merlin added when it didn’t seem like Arthur was going to speak anytime soon. After a few moments longer, Merlin summoned up the last vestiges of his courage to look at Arthur and suss out how he was handling the news. Arthur’s face was curiously blank and when he noticed Merlin looking at him questioningly, he strode past him and out of the room without a word. 

_Trust Arthur to deal with this in the most dramatic manner possible_ , Merlin thought, before letting out a sigh and reluctantly following him.

Arthur had already made it halfway down the corridor by the time Merlin stepped foot outside his chambers. 

“Arthur!” Merlin ran after him, catching up after a few moments. “Arthur, c’mon, where are you going?”

“To see Gaius, obviously.” Arthur’s voice was clipped and he refused to look at him.

 _Been there, done that,_ Merlin thought. _Wasn’t exactly helpful._

“At this hour?”

“Yes.” 

“Arthur, he’s probably already asleep.”

“Then I’ll go find that creature and deal with this myself,” Arthur responded, still not looking at Merlin at all.

“What, and fumble around in the forest all night? You’ll never find him in the dark!”

Arthur didn’t respond and continued to march down the hall, decidedly paying no attention to Merlin struggling to keep up.

“Arthur, would you stop for a minute. _Arthur._ Arthur!” Merlin finally lost the last sliver of his patience, grabbed Arthur by the arm and jerked him back, slightly more forcefully than he intended. As Arthur finally met his eyes for the first time since Merlin had dropped the whole _yeah I’ve been seeing all your dreams_ news, Merlin was surprised to see that they weren’t filled with anger like Merlin had assumed, but instead were shrouded in something akin to embarrassment. 

“Merlin,” Arthur said slowly, through gritted teeth. “Let go of me.” 

“Okay, just- just listen to me for a second, will you?” Merlin released his grip on Arthur’s arm, but neither of them moved. Instead, Arthur crossed his arms across his chest defensively and simply stood there, seemingly waiting for Merlin to speak. There was a faint flush across his cheekbones and his eyes were no longer meeting Merlin’s, but darting around the empty hallway. 

“I know it’s- it must be weird to know that I’ve been seeing, y’know,” Merlin trailed off, realizing that rehashing the situation might not be in the interest of reducing Arthur’s status as a flight risk. “But it’s not... not anything super concrete really?”

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked, still glaring at the wall behind Merlin and refusing to meet his eyes. 

“I don’t really see the whole dream itself, I- I don’t really know how to describe it, honestly.”

 _“Try.”_

“Right.” Merlin nodded, glad they were at least getting _somewhere_. “Well, it’s more like flashes of certain images and feelings, and I only remember bits and pieces in the morning, not the whole story. And I haven’t seen anything, um. Anything too, uh, indiscreet. If that’s what you’re worried about.” 

And that was true. For all of the range of dreams Merlin had been unknowingly peeking in on, they had been for the most part, well, mild. This was a bit puzzling - it’s not like Arthur was some shining pillar of chastity. Merlin knew from the banter he overheard with the knights that Arthur, like most people, was no stranger to a steamy dream every now and again. But curiously, Merlin hadn’t really seen any. The closest he had gotten were the recurring flashes of Arthur’s hand intertwined with another as he lay under the covers. 

Arthur finally met his gaze once again, and this time, there was a tinge of anger on his face. “Don’t _lie_ to me, Merlin.”

“I’m not lying!”

“Right,” Arthur scoffed. “Like you didn’t see that you-” He cut himself off and swallowed hard, seemingly unwilling to continue on.

“That I what?”

Arthur studied him intently, and after a few moments, he must have finally realized that Merlin was telling the truth, because something in his face softened. Only momentarily though, because then his brows knit together in confusion and he turned away from Merlin once more.

“Doesn’t matter. Let’s go.”

Arthur made to start striding off again, but paused when he noticed that Merlin hadn't moved.

“What?” 

“Arthur.” Merlin couldn’t help but soften his tone a bit. “Can’t it wait ‘til morning?”

“Why, so you can spy on my dreams all night again?” Arthur’s voice was gruff and he still wasn’t looking at Merlin, but some of the anxious energy he had been exuding had vanished. His shoulders were still taught with tension, but he turned around and started walking back in the direction of his chambers, letting Merlin gladly fall into step beside him.

“What d’you want me to do, stay up all night just so I don’t see your dreams?”

“Not a bad idea,” Arthur grumbled. “I order you to not sleep until we’ve fixed this.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, letting the look on his face tell Arthur exactly what he thought of that order. “Y’know, it’s not like this is my fault.” 

“For once,” Arthur muttered under his breath, but there was no real venom in it. 

Merlin purposely bumped his shoulder into Arhur’s at that, and Arthur half-heartedly shoved him back, then uncharacteristically abandoned the promise of an ensuing scuffle to open the door to his chambers and gesture Merlin to go in.

Merlin paused in confusion outside the door. “Did you need anything else tonight? I was going to head home.”

“Oh.” Arthur blinked rapidly. “I guess not. I just thought...”

And normally Merlin would have made some joke about Arthur just wanting to spend some quality time with his dearest friend, or that perhaps the prince was feeling a bit lonely and needed someone to read him a bedtime story, but Arthur had this small, lost, look on his face that made Merlin blurt out, “Unless you’re planning on breaking out that bottle of wine Morgana gave you for your birthday, in which case I could definitely use a drink.”

The look on Arthur’s face was almost shocked at the proposition, but it quickly melted into something that was almost a smile. “What makes you think I’d do that?”

“You look like you could use a drink too.” Merlin shrugged, trying his best to look nonchalant about the fact that he had just invited himself to share a private drink with the crown prince of Camelot. 

“Bold of you to assume I’d share it with you, of all people.” 

“I'll have you know, I’ve been told I make an excellent drinking buddy.”

“By who, exactly?” Arthur scoffed.

“Loads of people! Just because I haven’t graced _you_ with my presence yet.”

“I’m touched you’d even consider it.” Arthur swept his eyes across the interior of his chambers, taking in the warm glow of the fire in the hearth and perfectly made bed with an unreadable expression on his face. “But I think I’m just going to turn in for the night.”

“Your loss,” Merlin said, schooling his features into a smile and hoping his face didn’t betray the disappointment he felt. “Goodnight, sire.” 

And as he turned to walk away, Merlin could've sworn he heard Arthur mutter “I’m sure it is,” under his breath before the door to his chambers shut with a resounding thud.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So,” Merlin began, not sure of how to phrase his request. “I’m sure you know why we’re here.”
> 
> “Reverse the enchantment or I shoot you down right now,” Arthur cut in, glowering at Galel. 
> 
> _So much for diplomacy_ , Merlin thought.

Merlin woke up the next morning with a pit in his stomach and his head feeling oddly blank, which wasn’t helped at all by Gaius informing him that Arthur had stopped by and expected the horses to be watered and ready to leave in the next half hour. It was only while struggling to get Arthur’s horse to just stand still (which was already a challenge when he was fully awake on the best of days) that he realized that he hadn’t dreamt at all last night - or rather, he supposed, Arthur hadn’t. But how was it that Arthur had managed to stop himself from dreaming? Was Galel’s bond faulty somehow? Would Merlin never see Arthur’s dreams again? Not that he wanted to, of course, but how-

“Morning,” Arthur said, interrupting Merlin’s internal spiralling and looking oddly haggard as he grabbed the reins of his horse away from Merlin, who started in surprise at his sudden arrival.

“When’d you get here?”

“While you were staring off into space like a daydreaming child.” Arthur pulled himself up onto his horse as he spoke. “C’mon already, would you?”

“Alright, alright. Someone’s grumpy today.” Merlin did the same, then nudged his horse to follow after Arthur, who was already heading towards the forest. “Speaking of dreams-”

“Don’t.” Arthur shot a half-hearted glare back at Merlin before stifling a yawn.

Something clicked in Merlin’s head and he suddenly realized why he hadn’t had any dreams last night.

“Hold on, did you - don’t tell me you actually stayed up all night just so I wouldn’t see your dreams,” Merlin hissed, pulling his horse up next to Arthur’s as they left the courtyard and taking note of the dark circles under Arthur’s eyes.

Silence. Arthur stared determinedly forward. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” 

Arthur’s silence continued, though he made sure that Merin saw his glare go from half-hearted to full blast.

“Makes sense,” Merlin continued. “I was wondering why I didn’t have any dreams last night.”

Arthur scoffed. “Disappointed, were you?”

 _Oops,_ Merlin thought. _Definitely getting into sensitive territory._

“ ‘Course not,” Merlin said in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone. “I was wondering if the enchantment broke or something, actually.”

“As if we’d ever get that lucky,” Arthur said, the words coming out in an almost bitter manner. And without another word, he nudged his horse to walk up ahead of Merlin as they entered the forest to begin their search for Galel. 

* * *

After they had tied the horses to a nearby tree, it took a surprisingly short amount of time spent foraging around in what Arthur _claimed_ was the same area they had initially run into Galel (the woods all looked the same to Merlin) before Galel obliged Arthur’s increasingly menacing calls.

“Hello!” 

And as if he had been there all along, there Galel was, lounging in the trees in a way that was becoming much too familiar, but no less infuriating. Despite the self satisfied look on the cherub’s face, Merlin felt some of the tightness in his chest dissipate at the fact that they had actually managed to find him. Perhaps they could _somehow_ convince him to reverse this ridiculous—and misguided, don’t forget misguided—enchantment. Perhaps he could even get Galel to tell him more about what he meant about how any of this related to his destiny, although, admittedly, he’d have to find a way to get rid of Arthur somehow for that part.

Arthur, it seemed, did not share his hopeful sentiments. Ever the diplomat, he immediately drew his bow and made to point the arrow at Galel. Merlin barely managed to grab his arm and yank it down in time before the prat made the mistake of actually shooting the only being that had the power to reverse the enchantment (as well as give him some much deserved _answers_ ). Arthur looked down at his arm where Merlin was clutching his sleeve in disbelief, an affronted look on his face.

“What the hell are you doing?” He hissed. “Let go of me!”

“Did you forget what happened last time you tried to shoot him?” Merlin shot back. “Just calm down, alright?”

Arthur jerked his arm back. “Well, what d’you suggest then?” His voice oozed sarcasm, but he didn’t take his eyes off of Galel.

“Just- just wait, okay?” Merlin said, before turning his attention to Galel instead, who had been relaxedly watching their exchange with an amused look on his face. Might as well just get to it.

“Hello again, Galel,” Merlin said, nodding in what he hoped was an adequately respectful greeting to make up for Arthur’s previous hostility.

 _“Galel?”_ Arthur asked incredulously. 

“That is my name, Arthur Pendragon.” Galel said, before nodding his greetings to Merlin. “Tsk tsk, don’t they teach manners up in that great big castle of yours?”

Arthur opened his mouth to speak but Merlin hastily interrupted what was sure to be a less than helpful response with a somewhat forced chuckle, hovering a warning hand in front of Arthur’s chest as he did so. Galel looked pleased at that, at least. So far, so good. 

“So,” Merlin began, not sure of how to phrase his request. “I’m sure you know why we’re here.”

“Reverse the enchantment or I shoot you down right now,” Arthur cut in, glowering at Galel. 

_So much for diplomacy,_ Merlin thought.

Galel seemed unperturbed by the threat. “Ah, but what guarantee do you have that my death will lift the enchantment?”

“I’m willing to chance it,” Arthur said, a terse smile that didn’t reach his eyes on his face.

“Quite a mistake that would be,” Galel said, absentmindedly plucking leaves off the branch he was reclining on.

“And why is that?” Arthur asked.

“Because I’m willing to remove the enchantment, something that would be quite difficult if I was, well, dead.” 

“Wait, you are?” Merlin blurted out. Galel’s motivations seemed to grow more and more fickle with each meeting. Arthur looked similarly puzzled, and he hadn’t even _heard_ Galel’s diatribes on destiny yet. Hopefully he never would. 

“Yes,” said Galel, smiling slightly. “On one condition… That you accept my challenge, Arthur Pendragon.”

Merlin sighed. _Why is it that Arthur was always getting roped into mysterious challenges from everyone in Camelot?_

“I accept,” Arthur said with no hesitation at all, causing Merlin to whip his head around to look at him in shock.

“That’s the sleep deprivation talking, right?” Merin asked, completely taken aback at how much of an impulsive _idiot_ the object of his affection could be. “You’re not serious, you- you haven’t even heard what the challenge is yet!”

“My word.” Even Galel looked surprised, as he directed his next question to Merlin. “He _is_ a reckless one, isn’t he?”

“I’m right here!” Arthur said in an affronted voice. 

Galel gave Merlin a look that almost seemed as if he was saying _This guy? Really?_ Unfortunately, Merlin had no response to that. 

“Very well. I will remove the enchantment…” Galel paused for dramatic effect, causing Arthur to look to the heavens in exasperation. “On the eve of Samhain.”

“Hang on-” Merlin started.

“That’s not for months!” Arthur interjected.

“Precisely,” Galel said, looking far too pleased with himself. “That is the challenge.”

“Your challenge... is for me to last until Samhain with Merlin seeing all my dreams?” Arthur said, exchanging a confused glance with Merlin, who was currently wishing with all his might that he could magic Galel into falling right off his branch.

“Indeed.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Merlin asked incredulously. “Contrary to what some might think, I don’t _actually_ want to see all of Arthur’s dreams! I mean can you imagine-”

“Shut up Merlin,” said Arthur, who was scrutinizing Galel deeply.

“No, I will _not_ shut up! This makes absolutely no sense,” Merlin said, feeling his hands starting to clam up at the thought of this curse persisting until Samhain. “And if you’d just think about something for more than five seconds for _once_ in your life, you’d be able to see that!”

Arthur was still staring up at Galel and seemed to be too deep in thought to recognize Merlin’s not-so-thinly veiled insult. “ I do agree actually, it doesn’t make much sense. Why would you want such a thing?” 

Galel seemed to be debating over how much he should reveal in front of Arthur. “It is your destiny to be the greatest king Camelot has ever seen, Arthur Pendragon. But what the future holds,” He took a long pause, as if grappling for the right words. “I have seen what becomes of you, and of your beloved Camelot. It is not… ideal.”

 _Oh,_ Merlin thought faintly. _So it seems they were going to be getting into all the destiny business. In front of Arthur. Perfect._

Arthur’s body, if even humanly possible, grew even more tense, and his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Are you threatening-”

“Not threatening, simply warning.”

“But if you know of some plot against Camelot, you must tell us!” Arthur said, fingers clenched around the bow tighter than ever, though it thankfully remained pointed downwards and not at Galel.

“No plot, no.” Galel sighed. “I simply know the cruelty of the fates.”

Arthur looked at Merlin, flabbergasted. “He speaks in riddles. Why on earth did you think he was _nice_?”

At this moment, once again, Merlin had no response. 

“Yes, people do tend to say that,” Galel mused. “And thank you, Merlin. I am indeed uniquely compassionate for my kind. A romantic, one might even say.”

Merlin had never been so glad that Arthur, for all of his positive attributes, could be extremely unobservant at times, as somehow he was too busy processing this new information to notice the wink Galel gave him. 

“Okay,“ said Arthur, seemingly finished with his processing. “Are you seriously telling me that this ridiculous enchantment will have some bearing on the future of Camelot?”

“If it gives you comfort to see it that way.”

“Another non-answer. Great, thanks,” said Merlin, who was starting to actually consider using magic to knock Arthur out so he could have a one-on-one conversation with Galel, because seriously, _what the hell_. How much was Galel going to tell Arthur?

“But- but why _Merlin_?” Arthur said, looking over at him with an indiscernible look on his face. “What does he have to do with anything?”

“You underestimate him, Arthur Pendragon. You and Merlin are, as an old friend might put it, two sides of the same coin.”

Not _that_ again. Based on the look on Arthur’s face, he felt similarly opposed to- or maybe mildly offended by- the insinuation. 

“Merlin?” Arthur said, drawing out the name in the way that Merlin always pretended to hate, even though in reality, it sent shivers down the back of his neck. “You’re joking.” 

“The, ah, relationship between you two is integral to Camelot’s fate.” Galel smiled somewhat apologetically, probably realizing how much Merlin was currently wishing he could use magic to knock _himself_ out. 

“ _Relationship?_ We- he’s my servant!” 

Maybe just knock all three of them out? This was getting unbearably uncomfortable and the flush that was making itself at home across Arthur’s cheekbones wasn’t helping Merlin’s situation.

“And friend, as I heard you recently admitted to.”

Well yes, but-” Arthur paused. “How did you know that?”

“I have my ways,” Galel said nonchalantly. 

“You- you’ve been spying on me!” Realization spread across Arthur’s face and he loosed his grip on the bow in order to point one accusatory finger at Galel. “Hold on, my dreams as of late, the ones that-”

“Yes, yes, I know the dreams you speak of. They are not my doing, or anyone’s doing besides your own.”

Arthur opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it almost immediately, a perturbed look on his face.

“Arthur,” Merlin whispered, turning them both away from Galel to create at least the _illusion_ of privacy. “What are you thinking? Surely you can’t be considering actually accepting this - this challenge, if you can even call it that.”

“I know, but- ” Arthur tilted his head to look at the trail that would lead them back home, then met Merlin’s eyes with uncertainty. “What if he’s telling the truth? About the future of Camelot? I can’t take that risk just because of my own discomfort.” 

“I get it, Arthur, I do. Very noble and all, but surely-

“Oh come on,” Galel interrupted impatiently. “You knights are so big and brave until it comes to a bit of emotional vulnerability, hm?”

“Alright,” Arthur said, turning back around to face Galel. “I still don’t understand what exactly connecting Merlin to my dreams is supposed to do, but I’m willing to accept your challenge. On one condition.”

“Go on.” 

“I’m assuming you have some kind of control over this whole thing so-” Arthur’s eyes flitted in Merlin’s direction before he fixed his gaze back on Galel. “Merlin sees nothing, uh, indiscreet.”

 _Oh, God_ , Merlin thought, wishing the ground would swallow him up right where he stood. 

“Thought you might say that,” Galel responded. “When you say indiscreet, what exactly do you mean? No sex dreams obviously, but-”

“Just!” Arthur seemed flustered. “Just not- not anything- ”

“I know exactly what it is you wish to hide, Arthur Pendragon.” Galel interrupted him, seemingly taking pity. He stared hard at Arthur as he spoke, as if mulling over the pros and cons of granting this condition. “Very well. Even though you’re kind of stepping on my point here, if this condition is what it takes for you to accept, then fine.”

Merlin wasn’t quite sure what to make of this condition or turn of events. He had thought that Arthur simply didn’t want Merlin looking in on anything too embarrassing, which was definitely helpful for Merlin as well, since he would really prefer to not live in a perpetual state of awkwardness for the next few months. But the way Galel phrased it…so there was something specific that Arthur was trying to hide? 

“Then I accept this ridiculous challenge.” Arthur seemed to have resigned himself to his fate. “Merlin sees my dreams-”

“Not the sex ones, though.” Galel interjected.

Arthur glared at him while Merlin tried to stifle nervous laughter, some of which was actually due to the growing realization that for the foreseeable future, he was going to be privy to Arthur’s subconscious happenings. Every. Single. Night. 

“Merlin sees my dreams until Samhain,” Arthur continued. “Then you remove the enchantment.”

“Deal!” Galel exclaimed, wings twitching with excitement. “The Cherubim’s word is their bond, Arthur Pendragon. Come Samhain, the enchantment will be lifted.”

Arthur nodded stiffly, then surprisingly turned to head back to where they had tied the horses instead of demanding further proof that Galel would remain true to his word, gesturing for Merlin to do the same.

Merlin took one last look of Galel. He wasn’t disappearing in his usual flash of dramatic golden mist, but was instead staying where he was, pensive eyes lingering on Arthur’s back. When he met Merlin’s gaze, his eyes softened and the corners of his mouth turned ever so slightly upwards before inclining his head in a goodbye nod. Merlin returned the nod before turning to follow Arthur into the trees, wondering just how he was going to make it through the next few months seeing all of Arthur’s dreams. There was something too _intimate_ about it all, which would have been a problem _even if_ Merlin wasn’t already trying to repress the reluctant, but sometimes overwhelmingly strong, feelings he already had for Arthur. 

“C’mon Merlin, keep up!” Arthur called from where he was already far ahead on the trail, looking back at him with a faintly exasperated smile on his face.

“How about you wait for me for once instead, huh?” Merlin shot back, picking up his pace to a light jog.

“Why the hell would I do that?” Nonetheless, Arthur stopped where he was and waited for Merlin to catch up, giving him a light shove when he did. 

“Prat,” Merlin said, shoving him back and snorting when Arthur stumbled over a tree root. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Arthur mumbled, the hint of a somewhat embarrassed smile on his face. 

They walked in silence. Merlin knew well enough by now that the pensive look in Arthur’s eyes wasn’t inviting any further conversation - at least, not right now anyways. However, a familiar feeling of fondness crept over him as Arthur’s arm brushed against his own with almost every step. Even through the silence, this tiny bit of contact was almost reassuring, a small sign from Arthur that whatever the situation was, _they_ would be okay. Merlin almost gave into the growing urge to lean closer into the contact before he quickly shook himself out of it. 

_C’mon Merlin, get it together_ , he thought. _Back to reality, okay?_

Samhain really couldn’t come quick enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and the plot thickens....!  
> i hope all you lovely readers had a wonderful week and *hopefully* this chapter was a nice addition!!  
> if anyone is interested in timeline stuff: i believe samhain is on october 31/november 1st and the feast of beltane (which if you recall earlier chapters, is right after their first meeting with galel) is may 1st! so including the few weeks it took for merlin to figure out they were enchanted, samhain is roughly five months from this point in the story :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ahem.” A much too familiar cough broke Merlin out of his thoughts. Speak of the devil. Or, well, think of the devil.
> 
> “Yes?” Merlin said lazily, not opening his eyes lest Arthur see how embarrassingly happy he was to see him. 
> 
> “What the hell are you doing?” Arthur sounded amused, which was a good sign. 
> 
> “Relaxing,” Merlin replied. “Something I never get to do when you’re around.” 

Once again, Merlin found himself laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking far too much about Arthur bloody Pendragon. Only this time it was barely past noon, rays of light were still filtering in through his threadbare curtains, and rather than waking up from some God-forsaken dream, he was ruminating over the events of this morning. As soon as Merlin and Arthur had arrived back at the castle, Arthur had dismissed Merlin for the rest of the day, glibly citing that he had practice with the knights until supper and practically running in the opposite direction, leaving Merlin pathetically alone in the courtyard, Arthur’s horse greedily nosing at his pockets for non-existent snacks. So much for everything being alright.

Arthur’s stubborn avoidance of the issue aside, one thing Merlin knew for sure was that there was absolutely no way he was going to make it through the next few months looking in on Arthur’s dreams. What’s more, he could hardly believe that Arthur himself had agreed to this ridiculous challenge! Most of the time Merlin felt a grudging admiration for Arthur’s consistent loyalty when it came to putting Camelot first, even to his own detriment, but right now he _really_ wished that Arthur was just a tad bit less noble. 

Of course, the prat probably wouldn’t have agreed at all if he had known just how deeply Galel read into their relationship. Even though Arthur probably wasn’t putting too much weight into Galel’s words (God, Merlin hoped not), the fact that Galel had hinted at - no, more than hinted at, basically fully revealed their entangled destinies was staggering enough! Although Merlin had to admit, on days when Arthur was being even more of an ass than usual, picking and prodding at every little thing he did, or making some stupid machismo joke at his expense in front of the knights, he was sometimes tempted to just come out with all of it. Reveal just how much he had saved Arthur’s life since his arrival in Camelot, just how powerful he was. How much he’d grown, and in such a short amount of time too. Wipe that self-satisfied, stupidly attractive smirk right off his face, grab him, and-

“Merlin?” The sound of Gaius’s voice interrupted his quickly devolving train of thought, accompanied by the clatter of the front door being shut.

“In here,” Merlin called back as he got up, mildly resentful that he wouldn’t be able to indulge in his fanciful daydream.

The tantalizing smell of what could only be palace cooking hit him as soon as he entered the main room, where he saw Gaius setting down two plates, heaped with food of a quality he was more used to seeing on Arthur’s table than his own.

“I managed to sneak some leftovers from the palace kitchen,” Gaius said with a smile, taking note of the flabbergasted look on Merlin’s face as he sat down at the table, already reaching for his first bite.

“Gaius you are- you are _fantastic_ ,” Merlin said, most definitely not with his mouth full. 

“I thought you might need a pick me up after your morning looking for the cherub,” Gaius said with a look of mild disapproval as he watched Merlin shovel food down his gullet. “Looks like I was correct, too.”

“You were.” Merlin nodded rapidly as he stuffed a chunk of bread in his mouth. “We didn’t get the enchantment lifted and Arthur’s gone and got himself sucked into some ridiculous challenge.”

Gaius sighed. “Of course he did. So I gather you’ll still be seeing Arthur’s dreams tonight?”

“Try for the next few months,” Merlin replied. “Galel—that’s the cherub’s name, by the way—said he’ll lift the enchantment at Samhain, can you believe it?”

“Huh.” Gaius did not seem too perturbed by this new information. “Interesting.”

“No, Gaius.” Merlin stabbed at a vegetable on his plate with a little bit too much force. “Not interesting! _Worrying!_ I can’t keep seeing Arthur’s dreams until Samhain, that’s-”

“Did Galel mention anything more of why he’s doing this?” Gaius interrupted, staring quizzically at his roast chicken as if it held the secrets of the very universe itself. 

Merlin sighed before reluctantly answering. “Once again, you were right. It seems like he’s interested in my destiny, for some reason. Like there’s something he’s trying to prevent, or change, or- I don’t know, really.”

“Then it would do you well to let Arthur complete his challenge, Merlin.” Gaius nodded solemnly, taking a sip of water as if to punctuate his point. “After all, nobody’s getting hurt, and from what you tell me, it does not seem as though Galel has malicious intentions. Perhaps something useful will come of this challenge.”

Merlin gaped at him. “Even _if_ that were true, there must be some way around it, some sort of loophole, like - like I could use magic to keep myself up all night! Or, forget magic, I could just sleep during the day and stay awake all night, or-”

“How would you do your job if you were to do that Merlin?” Gaius shook his head, unimpressed with Merlin’s half-baked solutions. “Sleep deprivation is a serious plight, you should know this. And even if you slept during the day, you wouldn’t be able carry out your duties as Arthur’s manservant.” 

Merlin’s heart sunk. “Be that as it may, I’m sure Arthur’s probably thinking the same thing about trying to find a loophole. He’d probably rather get a new servant than have me seeing all his dreams.”

Gaius said nothing for a moment, then said with a wry smile, “He might surprise you.”

“Y’know, people keep telling me that.” 

Gaius shrugged in response, returning his full attention to his food, which was quickly going cold. They ate in silence for a few minutes, nothing but the scrape of their utensils on plates to distract Merlin from the question that was swirling up with surprisingly immense dread inside of him: If Merlin told Arthur about his plans for a loophole, would Arthur be in favour of the idea? Even if it meant Merlin could no longer be his manservant?

“I almost forgot,” Gaius said. “After lunch, I need you to clean my leech tank. Should distract you from all of this nonsense for a good while.”

_Great._

* * *

After cleaning Gaius’s leech tank had turned to organizing his herb inventory, which had then turned to delivering medicine to a number of people in the lower town, Merlin found himself sitting on the castle steps, avoiding whatever menial task Gaius surely had waiting for him back at home. No matter how many chores he was given, no matter how disgusting (that leech tank was _horrific_ ) or distracting they were, Merlin’s mind was still stuck on one completely and utterly _maddening_ person, who was, for all intents and purposes, most definitely avoiding him: Arthur.

In between all the hustling and bustling around, Merlin had run into Gwen on her way home for supper and eagerly accepted her invitation to stop by, desperately wanting to update her, and okay, maybe vent a little bit about Arthur’s response (or lack thereof) and the awkward position he now found himself in. Gwen (bless her heart), was a stellar listener, _hmming_ and _ahhing_ at all the right places in his, admittedly, somewhat dramatic reenactment of everything that had happened that morning. However, to Merlin’s disbelief (but also relief), she had brushed off Merlin’s half-baked plan of going nocturnal for the next few months, claiming Arthur would never agree to it.

“He needs you,” she had said, ignoring Merlin’s cynical scoff. “There’s no way he’d go for a plan that involves not having you around for that long.”

Merlin sprawled back on the steps, thinking over her words, his hands flat on the cool stone and his face lazily tilted up to the sky. Part of him, a bigger part of him than he wanted to admit, desperately hoped she was right. He closed his eyes to enjoy the last rays of sun warming his face before they disappeared below the horizon, wishing he had as much faith in whatever it was Arthur felt for him as Gwen did. Okay, so they were friends, however reluctant Arthur was to admit it. But that friendship was tenuous at best and definitely had it’s limitations, what with the secret crush Merlin had been harbouring for God knows how long and the small, not at all significant matter of his super illegal, not welcome at all, magic, nevermind how many times he had used it to save Arthur's royal backside.

Merlin sighed, trying to beat the countless doubts he had into a subservient corner in his mind. Where _was_ Arthur anyways? He had seen plenty of the knights walking about, there’s no way they were still training. Was he planning on just avoiding Merlin until Samhain? As much as he loathed admitting it, Merlin would much rather spend his time running around after Arthur, snide remarks and all, than running errands for Gaius.

“Ahem.” A much too familiar cough broke Merlin out of his thoughts. Speak of the devil. Or, well, think of the devil.

“Yes?” Merlin said lazily, not opening his eyes lest Arthur see how embarrassingly happy he was to see him. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Arthur sounded amused, which was a good sign. 

“Relaxing,” Merlin replied. “Something I never get to do when you’re around.” 

He peeked one eye open and then immediately closed it again. Arthur was a sight for sore eyes, with his hair dishevelled, the faint golden sunlight glinting off the sword in his hand and cascading around him, illuminating the light sheen of sweat across his neck and whatever portion of chest was visible through that damned red v-neck tunic that Merlin had a love-hate relationship with. It was like the universe was _trying_ to torture him. 

Arthur snorted and said “You’re right about that,” before unceremoniously dumping his sword in Merlin’s lap and walking up the steps, knee jostling Merlin’s shoulder as he passed him. “C’mon. You can carry that for me.”

Merlin let out a completely and utterly fake groan of protest before peeling himself off the steps and following Arthur. “You really need me to carry a single sword for you? Seriously?”

“My, uh, wrists are sore. From practice.”

_“Your wrists are-”_

“Oh, just carry the sword.”

“Of course, sire,” Merlin said, taking the last few steps two at a time and catching up to Arthur. “Wouldn’t want to strain those delicate wrists of yours.”

Arthur sighed, but apparently didn’t want to dignify Merlin’s gibe with a response, because they made it to Arthur’s chambers in what was mostly silence, punctuated by Arthur’s greetings and nods of acknowledgement as they passed nobles and servants alike in the halls. When they arrived at Arthur’s chambers, he took the sword from Merlin without a word and walked inside, leaving the door fully open. Merlin hovered by the entrance, wishing he still had the sword to hold onto so he would have something to do with his arms other than awkwardly keep them at his sides. 

“Did you need anything else? Or should I… ” Merlin ventured, trailing off at the end. He wasn’t sure what he wanted the answer to be.

“Not particularly, no,” Arthur said absentmindedly, placing his sword on a table before looking up and taking notice of Merlin still standing in the hall. “Well don’t just _stand there_ Merlin, come in.”

Merlin obliged, trying to quell his surely rising heart rate. After a slight hesitation, with Arthur looking at him, and then the door, and then back to him expectantly, Merlin pushed the door shut behind him. 

“So,” Arthur said, all of a sudden adopting a brisk, business like tone. “We should probably talk about this… situation. Establish some ground rules.” 

“Probably,” Merlin agreed in what he hoped was a nonchalant voice. Even though all he had wanted to do the whole day was talk to Arthur, the conversation looming before them suddenly seemed more daunting than cleaning Gaius’s leech tank.

“Please, sit.” Arthur had an strangely formal air about him as he pointed to a chair, settling himself down in the opposite seat as he spoke.

Merlin walked over and sat down, not quite sure of what to expect. Arthur looked calm, but the sound of his leg jittering underneath the table in the same way it always did before an important speech betrayed what he was really feeling. The fact that Arthur was nervous too, felt as out of his element as Merlin did, was oddly comforting. A few beats of silence passed with Arthur staring very hard at his hands where they were folded on the table in front of him, before he finally looked up and met Merlin’s eyes directly.

“First things first.” Arthur brandished a finger in Merlin’s face, leaning in slightly as he did. “Not a word of this to anyone.” 

“Of course not.” Merlin nodded in agreement and sat back in his chair, trying to get away from Arthur’s piercing gaze. “Except I already told Gaius.”

Arthur mirrored his movement and leant back in his seat, drumming his fingers against his armrest anxiously. “I suppose Gaius is alright. He might even be of some help-“

“Oh, and Gwen.” 

“Gwen?” Arthur shot forward from where he had been slumped back in his seat and his restless fingers froze, now gripping the arm of the chair. “She has nothing to do with any of this, why the hell did you tell her?”

“I don’t know, I just ran into her!” Merlin’s brain scrambled for a reason that wasn’t just _Well, she’s the only person who knows about both my destiny and my ridiculous crush on you and I really needed to vent, so I kind of jumped at the opportunity to spill the beans_. “And she asked me what I’d been up to all day and well- well I didn’t want to lie to her, so-“

“Good Lord, do Morgana and my father know too?” Arthur said, now massaging his temples with both hands. “Although I shouldn’t be surprised, knowing that you can never keep your big mouth shut. Just - just make sure she doesn’t tell anyone, okay?”

“She won’t!” Merlin resisted the urge to push back on Arthur’s derision of his secret-keeping ability. “You know, if you hadn’t been avoiding me all day, I wouldn’t have ran into her in the first place.”

“I wasn’t _avoiding_ you, Merlin, I merely gave you the day off like you’re always begging for. You’re welcome for that, by the way.”

“You were so avoiding me!” Merlin exclaimed, not sure where his sudden burst of boldness was coming from. “You practically ran away from me in the courtyard.”

Arthur looked at him incredulously. “Me? Running away from you? Have you been at the tavern?”

“No, I have _not_ been- okay, look, I get it. This is really strange, and embarrassing, probably even more so for you, but-"

“I am not _embarrassed,_ ” Arthur said stiffly, not meeting his gaze. “I simply thought it would be wise if I took some time to think about some rules for our situation.”

“Whatever gets you through the night, I suppose. But listen, I was thinking, and-”

“Moving on to rule two,” Arthur interrupted. “Don’t bring up anything you might see. Better yet, don’t talk about the challenge at all.”

“Okay, but Arthur-”

“Just pretend it’s not happening and carry on with your duties like usual, got it?” 

“Yes, yes, got it, but-”

“Rule three,” Arthur continued, ignoring Merlin's sigh of exasperation. “If by Samhain nothing’s changed and it’s become clear that Galel was lying about everything, then - well, I suppose I didn’t really lose much, other than you spying on me every night… But anyways, if we find out he was just messing with us, we find that sneaky little cherub and-” 

“Y’know, Arthur, if you would just let me get a word in, you’d realize that we might not be needing these rules at all!” Merlin finally burst out, not wanting to hear whatever plans Arthur had for Galel. 

“What? Why?” 

Under different circumstances, Merlin probably would have really enjoyed the wide-eyed, bewildered, and frankly, adorable look on Arthur’s face, but right now all he could think about was how Arthur was going to respond to his plan for avoiding the dreams altogether.

“It’s simple,” he said. “I just have to readjust my sleeping schedule for the next few months. Sleep during the day, stay awake all night. No seeing your dreams if I’m not asleep, right?

Arthur frowned. “But how would you do your job if you’re asleep all day?”

“Well, Arthur,” Merlin said slowly. “I wouldn’t. You’d have to get a new servant until Samhain.”

“ _What?”_ Arthur looked even more bewildered than before. “I’m not getting a new servant!”

Part of Merlin soared at Arthur’s reaction. Unfortunately, another part of him, the part that loved to self-sabotage and still doubted what was right in front of him, wanted to press the matter further.

“Why not?” Merlin asked, his voice coming out as unimpassioned as he could possibly make it. “It’s the simplest solution. I thought you’d jump at the chance to finally get a halfway decent servant.” 

“But- you- don’t be ridiculous!” Arthur sputtered. “Of course I don't … I mean, you’re not... Look, we don’t even know that your brilliant little idea would work! You'd probably see the dreams anyways whenever you _do_ eventually sleep, just with a time delay, and what then? Besides, according to Galel the whole point of this has something to do with _you_ specifically, so if we try to avoid it in any way-” 

“Alright, alright, good point,” Merlin said, feeling a little guilty at how much validation he was getting from Arthur’s mild panic - but not guilty enough to resist the urge to tease him, just a little bit. “Shame though, I could use the time off. But since you like having me around that much-“

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself Merlin.” Arthur stood up and walked towards the window, relief etched in the slopes of his shoulders. “It’s just too much of a hassle to train someone new.”

“Whatever you say, sire.” 

And the part of Merlin that he pushed so deep down inside of himself, the part that dared to imagine a world where Arthur truly appreciated him, saw his worth, and could maybe even _want_ him some day, grew just a tiny bit stronger, moving ever so slightly, and ever so slowly, towards the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i fully intended to post this chapter yesterday, but i couldn't get [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29453247) silly little valentine's day oneshot where arthur and merlin work at a bar out of my head (excuse the shameless self promo), so editing took a backseat for a second! thank you all for continuing to read/comment/etc, i appreciate you all very much <3


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Merlin?”  
> “Yes?”  
> “Does your offer from before still stand?” Arthur finally met his gaze, and Merlin was surprised to see that he looked almost worried that Merlin would say no. “To talk?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a couple of quick notes!!  
> 1\. i finally added a hesitant chapter count of 30 - it may end up being a bit less or a bit more, but i thought readers would appreciate an approximate benchmark of where we are in the story :)  
> 2\. i've also added the canon-typical violence tag for the rest of this fic, but it's pretty mild (mentions of wounds/injuries, fights, descriptions of discrimination against magic users, stuff like that) 
> 
> that's all for now, thanks for reading and hope all you lovely readers enjoy the chapter <3

“C’mon Merlin, keep up!” Arthur peered back at Merlin, forceful gales of wind buffeting his horse towards the faint light in the unfamiliar tavern’s windows.

Merlin cursed under his breath and nudged his own horse through the mud, gingerly avoiding the spots where puddles of murky water had grown deceptively deep as best he could and ducking his head to avoid the sting of rain pelting his face. Arthur had dragged him out on yet another (unsuccessful, might he add) hunting trip, one that taken them so far to the outskirts of the woods that when the previously innocuous sky had suddenly darkened, cracked, and unleashed heavy sheets of rain upon them, there was no chance they’d make it back to the citadel before nightfall.

“Willowdale is just a few minutes' ride that way,” Arthur had declared, nearly shouting over the relentless drumming of the rain against the forest floor. “We’ll stay the night and head back first thing tomorrow.” 

Merlin, who was already soaked to the bone from the torrent, had simply nodded, his horse letting out a sad huff of air at the same time, seemingly just as miserable as he was. As they plodded up to the tavern, the sound of raucous shouts began to pierce through the howls of the wind.

“Seems the people are in high spirits,” Arthur said, dismounting from his horse and landing with a splash where the rainwater had begun to gather at the sides of the path.

The sound of glass shattering suddenly cut through the dark, angry cheers rising up from somewhere behind the tavern as it did. Arthur frowned, looking towards the source of the noise.

“Or maybe not.” Merlin slid off his horse and joined Arthur. “I’ll go put the horses in the stable, you get the room.”

“I’ll come with you,” Arthur said, pulling his horse away from the tavern’s main entrance.

Even standing there in the pouring rain, his feet uncomfortably wet and his hair absolutely sopping, Merlin caught himself glowing at the offer, unreasonably happy that Arthur would accompany him rather than getting out of the downpour as soon as possible. But then he saw the perplexed look on Arthur’s face as he headed straight towards the source of the noise and the glow dissipated as he realized that he probably just wanted to see what all the ruckus was about. 

Merlin buried his disappointment, turned the corner to follow Arthur, and found himself standing in front of what seemed to be the tavern’s neighboring building, a shoddy looking shop. This would be nothing to be concerned about, if it weren’t for the mob of angry people surging towards it, a handful already inside and wreaking havoc. A woman inside was tossing food, linens, and various other goods out through a broken window, where waiting villagers scuffled to grab everything they could carry. As Merlin stood there, shellshocked at what he was witnessing, he saw a man prepare to launch a rock towards one of the few unbroken windows. He didn’t get very far, however, as Arthur strode forward, grabbed his arm, and pulled him back.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, his voice cold. 

The man jerked his arm out of Arthur’s grip in lieu of responding, fingers clenched around the rock still in his hand. Merlin tensed from his spot just behind Arthur with both of their horses, not liking the nasty sneer on the man’s face.

“I’m not looking for a fight,” Arthur said calmly. “Just tell me.” Something about the steely look on his face and the way he bit out the words must have convinced the man, because he shrank back instantly, demeanour completely changed.

“Shopkeeper was a sorcerer,” he reluctantly grunted, suspicion still apparent in his eyes. “Some folk ran him off into the woods, but I reckon we shouldn’t let his stores go to waste.” 

For a moment, it seemed as though the howl of the wind grew louder at his words, but Merlin couldn’t tell if that was just the blood thudding in his ears as anger welled up his chest. Arthur said nothing as he stared at the man, and Merlin felt his hopes for the future deflating as he envisioned him simply walking away and letting the villagers carry on with this madness, but then-

“Did he receive a fair trial?” Arthur asked, as Merlin exhaled shakily, trying to maintain a composed front.

“What’s it to you?” a nearby woman barked, stuffing loaves of bread into a basket. 

“I’m Prince Arthur.” Arthur pulled his royal seal from his pocket and flashed it at the few people closest to him, prompting a wave of hushed whispers through the crowd. Though his voice was still calm, it pierced through the clamour of the rain and wind, stopping all the villagers in their tracks. “All of you, put back whatever you’ve taken and leave at once. If the man returns, send word to the citadel. Mob rule has no place in Camelot. You do not take action into your own hands, am I clear?” 

A chorus of abashed “yes my lord” and “right away sire” rang out as the villagers began to do as he instructed. As Merlin watched the villagers begin to disperse, still shaken, a young girl who’d been lingering at the outskirts of the crowd and staring at Arthur in disbelief ran up towards them, dodging another young man’s attempt to hold her back.

“This is all your fault,” she said to Arthur, far too much hate in her eyes for someone that young. “You and your father.”

And then she spat at Arthur’s feet, glaring up at him spitefully with her fists clenched as if she was expecting a fight. Before Merlin or Arthur could even begin to react (though he wasn’t quite sure what they’d even do), the man—boy, really, now that he had a closer look—that she had been with ran up and pulled her behind him, a downright terrified look on his face. 

“Forgive us, sire!” He bowed hurriedly, arm still out to shield the girl. “Please, my sister is just upset, this- this was our father’s shop. He didn’t- I mean, we don’t mean any harm. Please.”

The girl’s face contorted with anguish at the mention of her father and she began to sob, desperate wails that Merlin knew would haunt him for some time. From the look on Arthur’s face, he felt the same way.

“Of course,” Arthur finally said, his expression unreadable as the brother looked up at him in utter shock. “I understand. Get your sister home, the rain’s only getting worse.”

“Yes, my lord! Thank you!” The boy pulled his sister away, wrapping one comforting arm around her heaving shoulders as they all but ran away.

The two of them stood there in silence for a few moments, Arthur staring down at his feet where the girl had spit with his jaw clenched. Nearly all of the villagers had cleared out of the area, a few stragglers still putting things away inside, leaving them mostly alone. Merlin didn’t know what to say, but he knew he had to say something, do _something._

“Arthur-”

“I’ll put the horses away,” Arthur cut him off, not meeting his eyes. “You get us a room.”

And then he grabbed the reins of both their horses out of Merlin’s hands and trudged off into the rain to find the stables, leaving Merlin standing there empty-handed, drenched, and just barely holding himself together.

* * *

“D’you want to talk about it?” Merlin finally gave in to the urge to break the silence that had fallen over their room and sat up in his bed, staring down at Arthur, who was huddled in front of the hearth and warming his hands in front of the fire. He had been sitting there ever since he arrived from putting the horses away, not even making any snide comments about how drafty and dingy their room was like Merlin had been expecting.

“What’s there to talk about?” Arthur didn’t look up.

“You just seem a little…”

“A little what?” Arthur snapped, staring into the flames.

“Upset,” Merlin said. 

“I’m not upset, Merlin.”

“You’re still in your wet clothes,” Merlin pointed out. “Can’t be comfortable.”

“So are you,” Arthur retorted, his voice the slightest bit softer. “Go to sleep.” 

Merlin flopped back in his bed and buried his head under the covers, giving up on his hopes of getting Arthur, the emotionally closed off prat, to talk about what had happened. Arthur had never been the most open with his feelings, but ever since the beginning of Galel’s challenge a couple weeks ago, it was like all his walls had suddenly become even more fortified. Arthur seemed to be perpetually on edge but trying to act normal, even though Merlin had tried, _really_ tried, to keep to the rules that Arthur had set for them. After a few failed attempts (and mild threats), he _definitely_ didn’t bring any dreams up, and he tried (and failed) to think about them as little as possible. Though a few were quite bizarre, most of Arthur’s dreams were mundane anyways, the everyday, boring, common kinds of dreams that Merlin had probably had before too, like dreams that he was falling, or flying, or that he was naked in front of a crowd - Merlin had tried very hard to forget that last one. Sometimes they weren’t even coherent, just fuzzy remnants of people, places, sensations, that he felt falling out of his memory the moment he woke up. 

Arthur had nightmares too, more often than Merlin would have guessed. He’d taken it upon himself to greet Arthur with a fresh pear and tried to be especially nice throughout the day each time it happened. That’s all he _could_ do anyways, seeing all of his attempts to talk about the challenge at all were met with stony silence at best and pillows being lobbed across the room at worst. Arthur seemed to enjoy Merlin’s demeanour on these days, perking up in delight at the sight of the pear and receiving his compliments with pleased confusion, though he did regard him with suspicion (“What’s gotten into you? Why are you being so nice?” he had asked warily) the first time it happened. However, a few days ago, the morning after he had dreamt about being chased through the woods by a group of ominous hooded figures, Arthur had paused before biting into the pear with a look of realization dawning over his face. Merlin had tried to look innocent, but too late - Arthur had tossed the pear back to Merlin, muttering about how he didn’t need Merlin to play-nice out of pity because of some silly nightmares. 

Merlin heard the floorboards groan as Arthur finally got up from his spot on the ground and made his way to his bed, a cramped, tiny cot barely a few feet away from Merlin’s own. He poked his head out from his blanket, only to be met with the sight of a now shirtless Arthur (which always managed to disarm Merlin to no end, no matter how many times he’d seen it before) sitting on the edge of his bed and staring across at him. 

“What?” Merlin bit out, trying to hold back shivers. 

“Aren’t you freezing?” Arthur asked, appraising him critically. “You better not go and get sick on me, I’ve already given you too many days off as it is.

“Good one, sire.” 

Merlin suddenly became aware of his tunic sticking to his chest, still damp from the rain. He sat up and absentmindedly began to pull it over his head, wishing he could somehow use his magic to dry their clothes without Arthur noticing. Of course, all the number of threats he’d faced, bandits, assassins, magical beasts, you name it, and it was catching his death that would be the end of him. Of course, it wasn’t until he was struggling to escape the neck of his tunic that he belatedly realized that Arthur was, first of all, _right there_ , and second of all, that he had gone very silent, and very still, across from him.

“Don’t tell me there’s some law against disrobing in front of royalty,” Merlin said, feigning nonchalance. His voice was thankfully muffled in the fabric as he froze with his arms still raised above his head, waiting for Arthur’s response.

“Merlin… what happened to your chest?”

 _Damn._ He’d forgotten about the scar Nimueh had given him at the Isles of the Blessed - the fight was blurry in his mind, nothing more than a distant memory from what felt like ages ago. Although the burn wound had been an angry red for weeks, taking ages to fully heal despite both his and Gaius’s best efforts, it was now just a jagged circle of slightly raised skin, still silvery pale, but with an dull grey-ish pink tinge. Even though the scar was no longer outrageously distinct from his skin tone, its size and location smack-dab in the middle of his chest meant it was still rather hard to miss - a fact he was _really_ lamenting right about now. 

“Accident,” Merlin said lightly as he pulled himself free from the prison of fabric, grateful that the wound had faded well enough that he could pass it off as an old injury. “I spilled a pot of boiling water on myself,” he added, hoping Arthur would take the opportunity to make a dig at his clumsiness. 

Arthur frowned, but didn’t comment further. Instead, he lay back and got under his covers, eyes glued staunchly to the ceiling. Merlin took that as a sign that Arthur had believed his lie and got out of bed to hang his tunic to dry, placing it next to Arthur’s where all their outer layers were draped across a chair in front of the fire. Thankfully, the faint moonlight that was peeking through the dark clouds and filtering into their room wasn’t enough for Arthur to make out the dozen or so other smaller, less noticeable scars that littered his body—souvenirs of all the times Merlin had saved his life—no matter how keen his eyes were. 

As Merlin laid his tunic out, he could have sworn he felt Arthur’s eyes boring into his back. He was surprised at how comfortable he felt being only partially clothed in front of Arthur - it was almost funny, he’d spent so much time and energy reining his thoughts in around Arthur when he was undressed, he’d never given much thought to how it would feel to be in a similarly vulnerable state. In an odd way, it felt almost equalizing, almost... enjoyable? Merlin paused in front of the fire under the guise of warming his hands, but really, he was just stealing an extra moment to savour the feeling, however deluded it might be. But then, as he stretched upwards, relieving some of the tension in the knots of his back, he heard Arthur inhale sharply, and suddenly his fanciful notion that Arthur was watching him didn’t feel quite as self-indulgent as before.

He hurried back to bed, relieved (and only a tiny bit disappointed) to see that Arthur was still staring up at the ceiling, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Night,” Merlin said, pulling his covers up to his chin.

“Good night,” Arthur replied after a moment. He was barely audible over the patter of the rain on the roof, a sound that continued on through the night, eventually lulling Merlin into a fitful sleep.

* * *

_Fire, scorching the trees and ground around him, no matter which way he turns._

_Abject terror rising up in his throat, which is already raw from screaming._

_Heat pressing in on him, cornering him until he’s trapped, surrounded._

_A girl’s voice pierces through the roar of the flames, whispering ‘it’s all your fault,’ over and over and over again, growing shriller and louder each time until he sinks to his knees, the voice ringing in his ears._

Merlin wasn’t sure if it was the sheer horror of the dream or the thud of something hitting the floor in between their beds next to him that woke him up, but he shot up all the same, immediately on high alert. Unfortunately, however, as soon as his feet hit the floor and he attempted to take a step forward, Merlin tripped over a still half-asleep Arthur, who was laying on the floor, tangled in his sheets with groggy panic on his face.

Merlin stifled a curse as he nearly fell on top of Arthur, but instead managed to do an extremely agile and not at all embarrassing sort of pirouette-hop over him and landed on his ass on Arthur’s bed instead. At least there was a soft landing - somewhat soft anyways, as the innkeeper clearly prioritized value over comfort. 

“Graceful,” Arthur said, the panic now replaced with a condescending look - how he managed to look pretentious even as he was laying flat on the floor, Merlin would never know. He rubbed his eyes as he pulled himself into a sitting position, drawing his knees up to his chest and leaning back against the side of Merlin’s bed.

“What the hell are you doing down there?” Merlin couldn’t help but let some irritation slip into his voice, but he regretted it immediately when he saw a brief flash of shame on Arthur’s face. 

“Fell,” Arthur replied brusquely, not meeting Merlin’s eyes. “Because of the… you know.” He waved his hand in the air in a gesture that Merlin took to mean the utterly horrifying nightmare he had just witnessed. 

Merlin paused, not knowing quite how to proceed. This was the first time Arthur had ever brought up any of his dreams of his own volition, aside from the time he had figured out Merlin’s not-so-subtle patterns of responding to his nightmares, and Merlin didn’t want to mess the opportunity up.

“Right,” Merlin finally said, sliding down to sit on the floor and lean against Arthur’s bed, mirroring his pose so they were facing each other. He was still struggling to think of what to say next when Arthur spoke again, his voice hesitant this time.

“Merlin?” 

“Yes?”

“Does your offer from before still stand?” Arthur finally met his gaze, and Merlin was surprised to see that he looked almost worried that Merlin would say no. “To talk?”

“Of course.” Merlin knocked his ankle against Arthur’s in what he hoped was a comforting, but not too intimate, gesture. “Always.”

“Okay.” Arthur nodded. “Great.”

They both sat there, staring at each other expectantly. Sometime in the night the rain had stopped, so the silence that fell over the room as Merlin waited for him to say something was particularly deafening. 

“Are you going to say anything?” Merlin finally asked, wondering if Arthur knew how a conversation worked. 

“I thought you were going to.” Arthur tilted his head to the side, looking so genuinely confused that Merlin couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You were the one who asked to talk, you dollophead.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, that’s not a real word!” Arthur kicked his foot half-heartedly. “And I only asked because you brought it up before!” 

“Okay, okay, never mind,” Merlin said hurriedly, not wanting the conversation to implode before it even began. “I’ll start then. So, what that girl said... it bothered you more than you let on, huh?”

“If you say I told you so-”

“I wasn’t going to, I swear!” 

They lapsed into silence once more, the steady inhale and exhale of their own breathing the only sound in the room.

“It did bother me,” Arthur eventually said, the brittle scowl on his face melting into something more unsure. “Because - because what if she’s right?”

“It wasn’t you who chose to outlaw magic,” Merlin replied, choosing his words carefully. 

“No, but my father did, and I carried out his rule without question! And look how his hatred - our hatred, has spread.” Arthur spoke frantically, like he was worried that if he didn’t get his doubts out now, under the cover of darkness in this tiny room, they’d be lost forever. “Look what people are doing because of it, those poor kids, I just-” he broke off mid-sentence, shaking his head.

“Look,” Merlin said. “It’s not right what happened here, it’s - it’s _awful,_ but you can’t control what other people do, what those villagers did-”

“They did it because of _our_ laws Merlin, because they hate magic. Just as we told them to.”

Merlin steeled himself to ask his next question, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer. “Do you hate magic?”

“Well,” Arthur paused, seemingly thinking over his response. “Not exactly, but-”

“Then when you’re king, you can do things differently,” Merlin said quickly, cutting off whatever conditions he was about to specify.

Arthur let out a groan of frustration and dropped his head into the cradle of his arms where they were crossed atop his knees, muffling his next words. “I don’t _know_ how I’ll do things when I’m king, I just- I just want to rule a Camelot that is fair to all its citizens. A Camelot that is just, where this sort of thing doesn’t happen.”

“Arthur, you _are_ fair. You _are_ just. You’re one of the most irritatingly noble people I’ve ever met - how can Camelot's people not follow in your footsteps once you rule?” Merlin copied Arthur’s gesture from before and kicked his foot lightly, hoping that would lessen the impact of the hopelessly devoted look that was surely on his face.

Arthur poked his head up from where it was buried in his arms. He met Merlin’s gaze with the ghost of a smile on his face, but then he blinked rapidly, as if remembering something, and the smile was gone.

“Am I?” he scoffed. 

“What d’you mean?” Merlin asked, not sure where the shift had come from.

“Never mind.” He stood abruptly, extending a hand to help Merlin do the same. 

As Merlin accepted, he couldn’t help but take note of how firm his grip was, how warm, the outside surprisingly soft while his palm was rough and littered with callouses. Then he was suddenly standing face to face with Arthur, much closer than he was expecting, and staring right into those damn blue eyes. They stood there, hand in hand and chests only a few inches apart, for just a fraction of a second too long before Arthur stepped back and dropped Merlin’s hand.

“Thanks,” Arthur mumbled, looking away quickly. “That helped, a bit. Now go back to sleep.” 

Arthur lightly pushed the centre of Merlin’s chest so he fell back onto Arthur’s bed behind him, and maybe it was just his imagination taking over again, but he could’ve sworn that his fingertips lingered for just a moment, brushing over the almost imperceptible ridge that separated the burn scar from his unmarked skin. Then without another word, Arthur turned and dove into what was very much _Merlin’s_ bed, not his own. 

“Arthur, that’s my bed,” Merlin said faintly, still recovering from whatever had just passed between them. 

“Oh.” Arthur propped his head up momentarily, and then flopped it back down, burrowing his face into Merlin’s pillow. “Too tired to move. You can sleep in that one.” 

And that’s how Merlin found himself sliding under covers that smelled distinctly like Arthur, wrapping his arms around the same pillow that Arthur had been sleeping on earlier that night, and scrunching his eyes shut, deliberately trying to ward off unwelcome wandering thoughts about if Arthur was enjoying the switch as much as he was.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends!! this chapter heavily references episode 1x11 (the one where arthur, silly man that he is, kills a unicorn and unleashes a curse on camelot) so if you're not familiar with it some lines might be confusing!
> 
> thank you once again to everybody reading/commenting/etc!! :) 
> 
> enjoy!! xx

The morning that Arthur responded to Merlin’s cheery “Rise and shine, sire!” by blinking blearily and then absentmindedly wondering out loud to no one in particular, “I wonder how many unicorns are left in the wild,” Merlin knew immediately that things had changed.

It would have been an innocuous, if a bit random, statement, if it were not for the dream of standing in a breathtakingly beautiful field that was overgrown with lush fauna and flowers, enshrouded in mist, and most notably, filled with a pack of unicorns, that Merlin was privy to the night before.

“Probably not a lot,” Merlin said, trying to match Arthur’s nonchalant tone. “Gaius tells me they’re pretty rare.”

“That’s a shame.” Arthur shifted to sit up in bed and stretched lazily, his bedsheets falling to reveal the tan expanse of his bare chest as he did. 

Merlin hummed in agreement and quickly turned away to fetch Arthur’s clothes for the day, not wanting to even give himself the chance to get caught staring. 

“They were quite majestic creatures,” Arthur said slowly, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to continue, “in my dream last night. But you knew that already.”

Merlin paused in front of the wardrobe for a moment, scarcely believing his ears. He’d figured that their conversation about Arthur’s nightmare the week before was a one-off, a brief reprieve from his usual stoic nature that could easily be left behind in the dark of their cramped room in Willowdale, never to see the light of day again. But it seemed that something about that night must have loosened his tongue a little, because here Arthur was, referencing his dream last night like he had no qualms at all about discussing it with him.

Merlin turned to look back at Arthur. He was leaning back against his headboard and watching him closely, his golden hair sticking up all over the place, the tips of his ears slightly pink and faint imprints of wrinkled lines on one cheek from where his face had been pressed into his sheets. The curve of his mouth was settled in a stubborn line and his jaw was clenched, as if it was taking all of his effort to not duck his gaze and change the topic to something easier, less inviting. Taking in the endearingly obstinate look on his face, Merlin was starkly reminded of Arthur the day he met him, all cool arrogance, entitlement, and knee-walking jokes. But the difference was that now, for whatever reason, Arthur was sitting in front of him staunchly trying to talk about something that no doubt made him feel horrendously vulnerable and naked in a way that no one ever enjoyed. Arthur was _trying._

Merlin felt something warm suddenly bloom in his chest, something that felt overwhelmingly, dreadfully, and fiercely like love. The feeling spread, vibrating through his body from tip to toes, pooling with heat in his stomach and creeping up to choke the words he wanted to say, only halfway formed in his throat. And he was a little surprised at the force of it, because when did averting his eyes from Arthur in the bath turn into a reluctant crush, and when did the reluctant crush turn into _love?_ But then again, people did say it came out of nowhere, didn’t they? And whatever the case was, he really didn’t have the time to ponder these questions right now because Arthur was still looking at him quizzically, waiting for a response, and all Merlin wanted to say was _God help me, I think I love you._

“Yeah,” Merlin said finally, not able to drag his eyes away from Arthur. “Yeah, they were beautiful.” 

And if it showed on his face that he was most definitely _not_ talking about the unicorns, Arthur was of course, oblivious to it. He slumped back down into his bed with a pleased look on his face, seemingly relieved that talking about his dreams, however brief the dialogue, wasn’t as painful as he was expecting. 

“Makes me feel even worse about that time I killed one.”

“We all make mistakes,” Merlin replied faintly, trying his best to quell the shaky feeling in his knees and compartmentalize the sudden rush of emotion to deal with at a more opportune time. _Focus, Merlin. Come on._

Arthur snorted dismissively. “I doubt anyone else’s mistakes endanger the well-being of entire kingdoms.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s part of the whole being royalty deal, actually,” Merlin said, finally getting his thoughts together enough to shake himself out of his reverie as he grabbed a set of clothes and walked back towards the bed. “Even with your mistake, what matters is that you fixed it. Not many would have been able to.”

“All that ‘pure of heart’ business,” Arthur muttered, shaking his head. “Ridiculous.”

“What, you don’t think you are? Pure of heart, I mean.”

Arthur shrugged noncommittally.

“You drank the poison, or sleeping draught, I guess, in my place,” Merlin reminded him, leaning against a bedpost. “Seems like that was enough to prove your ‘pure of heart-ness’, or whatever.”

The smile that stretched across Arthur’s face as he remembered the incident was slow and playful and Merlin almost wanted to throw the clothes right in his face just so he wouldn’t have to look at it any longer. The urge to kiss him right on his irritatingly perfect mouth was getting impossibly hard to resist.

“You were _so_ adamant on drinking it instead of me,” Arthur said teasingly. “It was flattering, really, I had no idea you felt so strongly about me.”

“Nah, I just couldn’t bear to let you have all the glory,” Merlin deadpanned, not meeting his eyes lest Arthur see through his joke and discover how true his previous words were. “Now c’mon, get up. You’ve got a council meeting soon.”

Arthur chuckled and rolled out of bed, groaning and rubbing at his shoulder as he did. “I’m telling you Merlin, those terrible tavern beds really messed up my back, I’ve been stiff for _days.”_

“You royals, always so dramatic.” Merlin made a show of sighing and rolling his eyes exaggeratedly, knowing it would get on Arthur’s nerves. “They weren’t _that_ bad.”

“I’m not being _dramatic_ , they were awful! Honestly, I could probably do with a massage.”

In the ensuing silence that fell between them, Merlin realized whose shoulders it would likely fall upon to provide that massage and silently begged the universe for Arthur not to be serious because, really? _Really?_ Getting him dressed or in the bath was already more than difficult enough, a massage would just be _unbearable,_ it would be _excruciating,_ Merlin wouldn’t be able to handle it! Especially not with the revelation he just had, he simply wouldn’t be able to-

“You don’t have to look so scared, Merlin. I’m only joking,” Arthur interrupted his steady stream of horrified thoughts, a strangely miffed look on his face. “It’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

And he grabbed his clothes out of Merlin’s hands and stalked off to change behind the partition, leaving Merlin with the peculiar feeling he had done something wrong, but not quite knowing exactly what.

* * *

“You look stressed.” The sound of Gwen’s voice drawing near broke Merlin out of the monotony of staring at the hall doors, ruminating endlessly on his earlier epiphany of love as he waited for Arthur’s council meeting to end. “Arthur driving you mad again?”

“Worse,” Merlin said, letting his head fall back with a hollow thud against the wall. “I think I’m in love with him.”

Gwen came to a sudden halt in front of him and let out a worryingly loud squeal of excitement, her hands flying to cover her mouth and her eyes shining.

“Gwen! First of all, this isn’t a good thing, and second of all, _hush!”_

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It’s just, I was wondering how serious this whole thing between you is-”

“There’s nothing _between_ us,” Merlin protested weakly, to no avail. “He barely admits that he considers me a friend. Besides, even if he felt the same way—which he _doesn’t_ —Uther would have my head if he found out. _And_ with my, uh, _top secret skills_ and all of that, it’s…it’s just too complicated. It’ll never happen.”

Gwen paid him no mind. “Don’t be silly, Merlin, of course he feels the same way, he’s just too dense- I mean, um, _busy_ to fully realize it himself. And all of that other stuff can be dealt with.”

”As if,” Merlin grumbled. “Who’s being silly now?”

“This is - wow,” Gwen said in a voice full of wonderment, clearly still caught up in the idealistic haze of a hopeless romantic. “I mean, I knew you _liked_ him, that much was obvious even before you told me, but love! This is just-”

“Awful? Painfully unrequited? Potentially life-ruining?” Merlin interjected.

“Wonderful!” Gwen smiled that ridiculously persuasive smile of hers up at him and Merlin couldn’t help but admit that despite the sheer impossibility of it all, a tiny part of him felt almost relieved to finally put a name to it, this _thing_ that’s humming under his skin and making itself at home in his chest for who knows how long.

“I suppose it does feel good to admit it to myself,” he said reluctantly. 

“ _See?”_ Gwen said in a singsong voice, her beam growing even brighter. 

“Stop looking so pleased.” Merlin poked her lightly in the side and smiled despite himself. “This just means you’re going to be subjected to even more of my emotional turmoil than usual.”

“I look forward to it, Merlin, I really do.” 

They settled into a comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other’s company and listening to the muffled shreds of conversation they could hear emanating from the meeting inside. Merlin was just about to crack a joke about how the council was probably discussing some supremely important kingdom business, like grain tax reform, that mere lowly servants like themselves couldn’t _possibly_ understand, when he heard the sound of heavy footsteps and clanking chains coming from around the corner. Gwen’s head turned to follow the noise, and they both watched as two guards entered the otherwise empty corridor, dragging a haggard looking man—middle aged, dishevelled, and dressed in shoddy, torn clothing—in chains between them. They all ignored Gwen and Merlin and made straight for the hall doors, rapping their knuckles against the door and eventually being let in by a member of the council. Merlin got a quick flash of the bored look on Arthur’s face morphing into one of immediate concern before the doors swung shut, leaving him and Gwen to scurry closer and listen in for whatever they could make out from the other side. 

“It’s useless,” Gwen said, pressing her ear against the door. “I can hardly make out a thing.” 

“Not a problem.” Merlin closed his eyes in concentration. _“Gehlyst bētton.”_

Then the previously indecipherable voices rang in his ears as clear as day as if they were standing right next to him, and from the look of shock on Gwen’s face, it seemed that his attempt to cast the spell over her too had been successful. 

“Merlin,” she said, eyes wide. “How can I… did you-”

“Magic has its advantages,” Merlin whispered, grinning unabashedly at her and relishing in how good it felt to not have to hide who he really was. 

Gwen, the best partner in crime anyone could ever ask for, broke into a grin of approval, and they both resumed listening in on whatever it was that was going on inside the council meeting. As they got the gist of what was happening, however, the smiles quickly dropped off their faces. 

“- by his own confession. Furthermore, close to a dozen witnesses claim to have seen him commit these acts, my lord.” 

“Very well.” Merlin stiffened, recognizing Uther’s cold voice. “Bernard of Willowdale, you are to be executed for your crimes against Camelot. Guards, if you would-”

“But Father,” Arthur interjected. “Surely some leniency is warranted if you consider this man’s circumstances.” 

“He has already confessed to practicing sorcery. There’s nothing left to discuss.” Uther said, seemingly unimpressed with the interruption.

Merlin felt his chest constrict painfully at his words. Standing next to him, Gwen also grew tense and she lay her hand on his arm, giving it a much needed comforting squeeze. 

Arthur spoke emphatically, his voice imploring. “Well- well _yes_ , but only to heal his sick daughter, I mean-“

“And what of it? The law is the law and none are above it.”

“But to sentence him to death-“

“Enough.” Uther’s voice was clipped. “Guards, put him in a cell to await execution.”

Merlin and Gwen scuttled back from the doors as they heard footsteps approaching and quickly turned to each other as though in deep conversation, making it seem like they were simply waiting for the meeting to adjourn. The guards left the room as quickly as they had arrived, dragging the man, who was slumped in defeat, off in the direction of the dungeons. As the doors slowly swung shut, Merlin caught a glimpse of Uther whispering furiously to Arthur, the rest of the councilmen sat with their eyes downcast as they pretended not to hear him being admonished. Even after the door closed, Uther’s words rang loud and clear in Merlin and Gwen’s ears:

“I will not have you arguing with me in public. Show such disrespect again and you’ll be joining the sorcerer in the dungeons. You. Are. _Dismissed_.”

The screech of Arthur’s chair as he stood was so loud, they likely would have heard it even without the enchantment Merlin had cast over them. Merlin took a second to quickly mutter _“gehlyst edstaðeledon”_ under his breath to lift the hearing spell, and not a second after he’d gotten the words out, the doors flew open, bouncing off the walls angrily. Arthur came striding out, his jaw clenched and hands in tight fists at his side.

“Merlin, with me,” he said, walking briskly past them in the direction of his chambers. 

“Right away, sire,” Merlin called out, hoping Arthur didn’t catch the faint tremble in his voice, but he didn’t move from his spot.

Gwen looked after Arthur, then back at Merlin, helplessness and distress in her eyes. “Merlin, are… are you alright? That can’t have been easy to hear.”

He forced an uneven smile. “You get used to it, after a while.”

“You shouldn’t _have_ to get used to it,” Gwen said, her voice suddenly fierce. “That’s horrible.”

“I know, it’s just-” Merlin let out a frustrated huff of air. “Moments like this, I wonder if my actions are even making any difference at all. If Camelot will ever change.”

“It will, Merlin. You and Arthur will see to that.” 

Merlin looked at Gwen, her eyes bright with earnest hope, and couldn’t help but wish that he had half her optimism. “I hope so.”

“You’d better go,” Gwen said, nodding towards the hall and smiling sadly. “He’s probably wondering where you are.”

“Right.” Merlin nodded his goodbye and headed off towards Arthur’s chambers. 

Arthur was already long gone, so Merlin took his time making his way upstairs, taking slow and measured steps and breathing in and out on each third step. _Inhale. Three steps. Exhale. Three steps. Inhale. Three steps. Exhale_. The repetitive motions helped soothe him, helped him temper the overwhelming wave of emotion he felt at everything he’d heard until all that was left was the steadily growing conviction that he had to do _something_ about the plight of the man to be executed. It took a few days to build a pyre, so he had some time, and Merlin was supposed to be the greatest sorcerer to walk to earth, wasn’t he? What was the point of all of that if he wasn’t able to deal with a few guards and help this one man, right? He could fix this. He could figure something out before it was too late, he was certain of it. 

By the time he arrived at Arthur’s chambers, Merlin felt remarkably calm, almost unreasonably so considering the task set before him. But when he opened the door, Arthur, who was pacing restlessly and exuding a nervous but determined energy, met his gaze with a steely look in his eye that said he was about to do something incredibly risky, and all of that hard-earned tranquility flew straight out the window.


End file.
